Number 12, Grimmauld Place
by Zen Lady
Summary: An unsuspecting graduate student and occasional writer finds herself transported to Hogwarts under suspicious circumstances.  SummerFunFluff during hiatus from Children of the Goddess and Environmental Sciences.
1. The Introduction

Disclaimer: This is written for fun and relaxation and not for profit.

For anyone reading who's familiar with my other stories, this is a bit of fluff I'm enjoying while I have the summer off from classes. Please don't expect anything intricately plotted or developed over months or years!

Author's notes: This story is the result of many hilarious discussions with several friends and of my asking two people who know me well (and who have known me for a long time, 10 + years) which of the male HP characters I would fall in love with. The answers shocked me. They both said the same thing although they've never met and don't know each other. Neither one of them answered what I would have thought - the kind of guy I usually go for in real life.

Also, it's too weird to me to use my real name because no matter what I do, the character here will always be an idealized version of me.

* * *

**Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place**

by Zen Lady

**Chapter 1: The Introduction**

"Good afternoon," said Professor Albus Dumbledore as he entered his office. "I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting this long."

The woman was tall, dressed in a long, black raincoat and held a red hat in her hand. Her large, dark eyes studied Albus with a little frown, but she did not speak. He worried for a moment that she might be in shock because she didn't speak for several long moments.

"That brocade is gorgeous," she finally said in a smooth American accent like a news reader.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile. "Miss Zen, isn't it?"

"Zen Lady, actually," she said, "but you can call me Zen."

"Please, let me take your coat." He stepped closer to take it from her, and after she had slipped it off her shoulders, she stuck the hat in the sleeve and handed it over. Her heavy mane of auburn hair could have used the attentions of a good comb, but she was attractive with bright intellect apparent in her eyes. "Please sit down," he suggested. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Thanks. That'd be great," she said as she took one of the chairs by his desk.

_Interesting that she's not full of a thousand questions_, he mused as he poured two cups of tea. "Milk and sugar?"

"Nothing, thanks."

He passed the cup to her before going to sit down on the other side of the desk. "Well, my dear, you are certainly wondering how you came to be here."

"The thought _has_ crossed my mind," she quipped.

He smiled. "I'm glad to see the shock of being transported into this literary world hasn't adversely affected you."

She frowned at him and narrowed her eyes. "Not yet."

"You are not the first author to appear here," he explained. "Many others have visited before you."

"Many others?" she repeated.

"Yes, so the novelty has worn off."

"Maybe for you," she answered. "But what brings us here?"

"We haven't been able to determine that yet," he explained. "But no harm has occurred to anyone. The lucky truth is that their time here – and yours, as well – occurs within a mere few seconds in your world whereas many days pass here."

She frowned even more. "So time goes by more quickly here?"

"I think it is more a matter of your return coinciding almost with the moment of your departure." He sipped his tea. "Therefore, there is no cause for concern. We'll work on sending you back as soon as we may, but none of your responsibilities will be affected by your visit here."

"How convenient," she remarked.

Dumbledore took a careful look at her. Although she seemed at ease, she didn't trust him and didn't altogether believe him. Strange.

"What's the date?" she asked.

"January the sixteenth," he told her. "Nineteen ninety-six. You, of course, know much about what is going to happen in our future, so I must ask you not to speak of what you know while you are here. Even the smallest detail might affect the events of the future."

She pursed her lips and studied him with a dark frown. No, she certainly didn't trust him.

"Until we are able to send you back, I'm going to take you to a place where you can stay safely, where your interactions with others will be at a minimum."

"How long before I go back?" she asked.

"It's hard to say. A few days, probably."

She rose and walked over to a book shelf where her fingertips brushed the spines of the tomes housed there. "You say a lot of other writers have come here before me in the same way?"

"Yes. It's become positively old hat."

"If you don't know what brings us here, how do you send us back?" She turned to look at him.

"I suspect that a powerful longing to visit us, to escape your own lives, is responsible, but I'm not certain," he explained smoothly. "But that doesn't make an enormous difference in the use of our magic. Even if we don't completely understand how it happens, we know how to use it."

From the way she studied him, Albus was fairly sure that she neither liked nor believed his answer; however, she didn't press him for more information. Instead, she asked, "Do you and the others know what we've written? Do you get to read it?"

"We know what has been written," he informed her, "though we don't read all of it."

A hint of a smile turned up one corner of her mouth, and with devilish mischief in her eyes, she asked, "What's the reception been like for slash writers?"

_Sirius will like this one_, he knew. Oh yes, he would like her, but Albus's thoughts turned darker. The problem was: would Zen like him?

* * *

Professor Dumbledore showed her a scrap of paper with the address, and then she knew exactly where she was going – 12 Grimmauld Place. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Carrying her bookbag, oboe case, and handbag, she followed the old wizard to the door, which had no handle or mail slot. Dumbledore touched the door with his wand and there was the sound of several locks opening.

Zen entered the dim interior cautiously and was struck by how gloomy and unpleasant it was. She removed her gloves and put them in her coat pocket. The old wizard obviously expected her to stay here and make no trouble for him.

Dumbledore closed the door behind them, and she stood waiting. There was the creaking sound of someone walking down the stairs, and she looked up to see a shadowy figure descending. The man stepped down from the last step and the hall light fell on his face.

A thrilled shiver ran down Zen's spine, for he was tall and still striking despite the ravages that the years with the Dementors had wreaked. Those beautiful pale eyes of his were filled with the gorgeous light of humor, intelligence, and passion. She forced herself to inhale and tried to keep a neutral expression on her face as an old song ran through her head – _I thought the sun rose in your eyes_…

"Ah, there you are. Sirius," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "My dear, this is Sirius Black, who will be your host. Sirius, this is the young lady I told you about, Zen."

She held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you," she said, and he reached to shake. "Thanks for agreeing to let me stay on such short notice." His hand was large, strong, and warm, and she tingled all over.

"It's my pleasure," he replied in a warm, deep voice. "I'll enjoy the company." He didn't smile, though. He was looking at her with his beautiful eyes, and Zen wished she had taken off her hat and combed her hair.

"Well, I trust you'll help Zen to settle in," said Dumbledore, "and see to her needs."

"I'd be delighted," he remarked, his eyes flicking to Dumbledore. "I'm sure she'll be comfortable here."

"Excellent." The old wizard beamed at them. "I must be going, but I'll check back in soon."

Sirius went to let him out, so Zen set down her bags, took off her hat, and unbuttoned her coat before smoothing her fingers through her hair. It would have to do until she could comb it.

When Sirius came back, he said, "Let me hang that up for you." He opened a closet door, so she slipped her coat off and stuck the hat in the sleeve before giving it to him.

She picked her bags up again, and when he turned back, he studied her for a moment. "You must be feeling a bit strange. Disoriented."

"A bit," she agreed. "I just hope I'm not too much trouble."

"No trouble." He actually grinned. "It gets lonely here sometimes, so it'll be nice to have a full-time guest for a change. A mate of mine stays when he's not busy with work, but that's not often enough. Here, let me take that."

When he leaned to take the bookbag from her, she thought she might swoon from smelling his wonderful male scent.

"Is this all you have? It's heavy."

"Yeah. There are a couple of textbooks in there."

"Do you play the flute?" he asked.

She glanced down at her case. "No – the oboe."

"The oboe." He blinked in surprise and looked at her.

Zen felt a little foolish, but that had never stopped her before. "It's a hauntingly exotic sound."

He smiled then, a slow smile spreading across his face and lighting up his exquisite eyes even more. "Are you any good?"

"No," she admitted. "Just a beginner. But I will be."

He laughed a little, which pleased her. "I look forward to it. Now, how about a cup of tea before I show you around?"

"No thanks. I've actually just had some," she answered.

"Okay, then let's go on up." He began to lead her up the stairs, and she followed him. .

He showed her a sitting room, a dining room, and a drawing room. His bedroom was on the third floor, and, on the second floor, he showed her into a clean room with two windows, a dark wooden dresser, an old wardrobe, and a canopied bed with a bare mattress.

"Don't worry, we'll get some clean sheets and a nice duvet and pillows," he assured her. He set her bookbag on the dresser. "Move anything you want."

She went over to the windows and twitched aside the curtains. Below was a small garden that was bare in the winter cold. When she turned back, Sirius was leaning in the doorway, regarding her thoughtfully.

"There's some women's clothes in the drawers and wardrobe. There are also some of my mother's robes upstairs. You're taller than she was, though. Thing is, that stuff hasn't been used in years, so I don't think there's anything clean. I'll look through it and see if there's anything salvageable."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, after you take a look of what there is, you can make a list of what you need. And anything else. You know, like toothbrush, and all that."

"Yeah. I actually carry a toothbrush in my bag," she told him. He looked curiously at her, so she added, "I'm a graduate student, and I have to spend long days at the university, so there are some useful things that I tend to carry with me."

"A graduate student?" he asked in interest, his fine blue-grey eyes examining her even more carefully than before.

"Yeah." She gave him a sheepish smile. "Can you show me where the loo is?"

"Oh – sure." He straightened up. "Sorry, I should have done that first." He led her down the hall and drew out his wand. "_Lumos_."

"We'll put matches on the list of things I need," she quipped.

He stepped back and looked at her again. "I think there's a box of matches around somewhere, and there's a whole pile of stuff in there that no one uses. You know, lotions and creams – women's stuff. It's all yours to use, whatever you want."

"Thanks," she said again. Was the _women's stuff_, as he called it, left over from the other writers who had been here? Or maybe a former lover?

"You relax and freshen up. I'll get Kreacher to make up the bed and see if I can find any clothes." He headed to the stairs. "Make yourself at home. I'll come and find you for dinner."

She closed the door and quickly relieved her bladder. Then she washed her hands and patted some cool water on her face. There were clean towels, and she blotted her face and dried her hands before getting her comb out of her handbag to have a go at her shaggy mop.

There was a bit of bellowing from somewhere upstairs. She thought it was Sirius's voice, but she couldn't be sure. She pulled the comb through her hair, cursing to herself at the tangles. It took a while to get it smoothed down, and then she checked her reflection. Her makeup was fine, but she applied a little subtle red lip stain.

"Very pretty, my dear," said the mirror, and Zen frowned at her reflection. Was she making herself pretty for Sirius Black?

After that, she poked through all the toiletries both in a cupboard next to the bathtub and a square wicker basket under the sink. Seven different kinds of shampoos and conditioners to build body and shine. Three for color-treated hair. Two for curly and wavy hair. Six tubes of mascara, five liquid eyeliners, seven eyeliner pencils, and eighteen different brands and colors of eye shadow.

_Who the heck would wear eye shadow here?_ Zen wondered.

There was more, much more, different brands and products, and she certainly had everything a woman might need for personal care. Every single thing she could think of that a woman might need was there in triplicate, at least. As Sirius had said, it was a _whole pile _of stuff! "It'll be a _really_ short list of things I need," she muttered to herself as she pushed the bin back under the sink.

When she went back to her room, she found that the bed had been made up with a fluffy duvet and pillows striped red and white, like a candy canes. She emptied her tote bag and piled her books, notebooks, journal, pencil case, and graphing calculator on the dresser. Next to them, she set her little makeup case and the other zippered case that contained all sorts of odds and ends and useful items.

Then she went through the drawers and the wardrobe. There were some t-shirts in varying sizes, and Zen found a couple that would fit her and a few that were too big but would suffice as nightshirts. There were some trousers, but nothing that would actually fit. The ones that were too big would have to do. Maybe she could get a belt. There was nothing to wear underneath, nor was there a sweater or anything warm enough for this drafty old house. Perhaps there was something heavy and warm upstairs with his mother's old things.

Although a fire had been laid in the hearth, it had not been lit, so she took one of the textbooks and carried it down the stairs. Should she sit in the drawing room or the sitting room? The latter had a fire in the hearth and seemed much cozier, so she slipped off her shoes and settled on the wide sofa with her feet up and the book propped up on a pillow across her knees.How long passed while she was engrossed in the text, she couldn't say, but the daylight had disappeared, and she was straining to read in the light of a single gas lamp when she heard Sirius say, "There you are."

She looked up over her textbook. He approached with two goblets in his hands. "Dinner's nearly ready. I thought you might like a drink beforehand."

"Thanks, that's very thoughtful." Setting her feet back in her shoes, she straightened up and took one of the goblets. Sirius took out his wand and lit more of the gas lamps, so she put her bookmark in the text and set it on the nearby coffee table.

He sat on the sofa where her feet had been and raised his own goblet in a toast. "Here's to your comfortable visit."

She raised her glass as well and then took a sip. It was a very flavorful, dry red wine, and she smiled and took another sip. The sitting room and her bedroom were quite pleasant, but other than that, she wasn't sure how comfortable her stay would be.

"_Wastewater Microbiology_?" he asked in a surprised voice as he read the title of her book. He looked at her in amazement. "Is that what you're studying?"

"Someone has to do it," she replied with a chuckle. "Actually, it's for a required class called Environmental and Pollution Microbiology. It's a prerequisite for Biodegradation and Bioremediation."

"What's that?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her.

"Biodegradation means decay. Microorganisms, like bacteria and archaea, breaking down things. Bioremediation is when we use the microbes to clean up pollutants from a site where soil or water is contaminated."

He looked interested. "Is _that_ what you're going to do?"

"Not me," she laughed again. "And I won't be doing research in a lab, either. I need to do a job where I can schmooze."

"Schmooze?" he repeated in amusement.

"Yeah," she laughed, blushing and telling herself that it would be better to avoid Yiddish and New York expressions. When her stomach growled loudly, she laughed and blushed even more.

"I know what _that_ means," he said as he got to his feet. "Bring your glass. I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen. It's not worth the trouble of using the dining room."

"No, it's fine." She followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The food tasted good, and Zen enjoyed it and the wine while she and Sirius chatted. There was a slight awkwardness as the two complete strangers became acquainted. He seemed to be looking curiously at her, and she imagined she was probably doing the same thing. The damage that the years in prison had done had left a terrible mark on him, but he was still overwhelmingly attractive to her. Probably more so because the experiences had made him more interesting. _Multi-faceted_, she decided.

"I was wondering," she began slowly when they had finished eating and were sipping their wine. "Dumbledore said that other writers have been stuck here before now."

He looked wary. "That's right."

Odd. Maybe he knew that they had to try to not affect the other's world and he was thus reluctant to tell her such bad news. "Were they stuck here for a long time?" she asked. Realizing too late that her words might sound offensive, she rephrased that. "How long did it take before Dumbledore was able to send them back?"

"It differed," he said, studying her thoughtfully. "A week, a month."

"A month!" she repeated in shock.

"Even longer than that," he sighed.

Now, it made sense. No wonder he was reluctant to tell her about it!

"But apparently, time passes differently," he went on. "I'm sure Dumbledore has explained. You'll go back just at the same time that you left."

To her, he seemed very intent on reassuring her, which made her feel lovely; however, his reserved manner seemed a bit out of character for Sirius. On the other hand, a month in this place without going outside? How was she going to stand it?

"You know, I've gone through the clothes up in the room, and there are some things that I can wear while I'm here," she informed him. "The problem is, it's so cold in here, and there's nothing really warm. Maybe there's something warm with the old clothes upstairs? Or at least some kind of shawl?"

"No problem," he assured her. "A set of heavy winter robes will keep you nice and toasty. I know exactly what you need. Come on, I'll show you."

Zen followed him all the way up to the third floor and into his room, which she hadn't seen yet. It was surprisingly tidy but the walls and furnishings were much darker than the room she was using.

From a tall wardrobe, Sirius took some heavy robes striped two shades of dark blue. "They're going to be a bit big on you, but they're warm."

"Nothing useful upstairs?" she asked as she took the robes and held them up to her shoulders. They were too long but otherwise just what she needed.

He made a sound of exasperation in the back of his throat. "No. Those old things would be too small anyway. And you should have heard Kreacher when he realized I was going to let you wear my mother's clothes! Miserable, useless idiot that he is."

"It doesn't matter." She folded the striped robes over her arm. "Too long's better than too short in the dead of winter."

He grinned a little. Crap! Too gorgeous by far! "And here's a warm shirt and some socks." He held out a heavy, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of thick socks, which she took with a murmur of thanks. "If you need anything else, don't be shy about letting me know," he told her.

"I won't," she assured him. "But with that big 'pile of stuff' in the bathroom, I won't be needing much."

"Yeah, there _is_ an awful lot of junk in there," he agreed.

"Lots of the same things in different brands," she said as she gathered the clothes in her left arm. "Now, I think I'll take a bath and get some sleep if it's all right."

"Sure, go ahead. No need to ask. _Everything_ is all right here." He winked at her.

She smiled back. "Thanks. Goodnight, then."

"'Night," he replied, watching after her as she went down the stairs.

* * *

Acknowledgements:Thanks to Phoenix and Clara Minutes for beta-reading. 


	2. Robes

**Chapter 2: Robes **

When Sirius woke in the early morning, he was vaguely aware of the sound of running water that seemed to come from far away. He dozed, and when he woke again, the tantalizing aroma of coffee brought him totally awake.

The woman, the latest author, must have got up already and made her morning coffee. Although it was earlier than he usually rose, he made his way to the bathroom to wash up quickly before throwing on his warm winter clothes and heading downstairs.

_It's nice to actually have someone staying here full time_, he thought as he yawned and descended to the kitchen. Of course he had told himself the same thing about all the authors over the last four and a half months. _Almost_ all the authors, he recalled with a smile as he opened the door to enter the kitchen.

"Morning," he said. "Coffee smells good." Kreacher wasn't around, he noticed with a feeling of relief. Then he stopped and examined Zen carefully, for she was wearing his heavy, blue-striped robes.

Seeing her dressed in his robes was a bit of a turn on, even at that early hour. They were too big, so she had cuffed the sleeves, and the neckline hung a bit to reveal her collarbone. There was a big clip gathering some of her hair on top of her head, but the rest of it was hanging down in strands. Despite the untidy hair, he thought she looked pretty and sexy, and he wondered what she was wearing underneath. He squelched a grin when he imagined that she didn't have on much under there.

Later, he would send a message to Tonks to stop by after work. That way, she could get whatever Zen needed. He had found by experience that it was useful to ask Tonks to help out because the authors generally felt more comfortable talking to her when they needed women's things.

"I hope I didn't wake you," she said in a low, morning voice. She was sitting with an empty plate with some crumbs on it, a cup and saucer, and the Muggle cafetière that they had bought when one of the first authors to come here had insisted on having continuous access to fresh coffee.

"No, it wasn't you." He grinned and rubbed his jaw, now wishing he had shaved since she was looking him over, assessing him with interest. "It was the smell of the coffee."

A smile appeared on her face and she chuckled as she turned to get another cup and saucer for him. "Better than an alarm clock."

"I haven't woken up this early for months," he admitted, taking the seat across from her.

"Someone has very good taste in coffee," she remarked as she poured him a cup. "My brother's the only other person I know that keeps it in the freezer."

"It's not me," he told her as he took the cup from her. "Another author who was here asked us to get it for her, and she insisted that it be kept chilled."

"I don't think I'd notice if it was or wasn't," she said. "But I don't drink that much coffee. Only in the morning."

"Have you eaten breakfast already?" He reached over to get the sugar.

"Yeah, I was too hungry to wait," she admitted. "I figured you wouldn't mind, and I was afraid to ask that little thing for any help."

"Little thing? You mean Kreacher? The house-elf?"

"Yeah. I told him I was a spy here. I'm not sure he believed me, but it was worth a try."

Sirius stopped in the act of stirring sugar into his coffee and looked at her with a frown of confusion. "A spy? Why did you tell him that?"

A little mischievous smile lurked at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes crinkled with amusement. "I thought he might treat me really well if he thought we were on the same side."

"On the same side," he repeated slowly as he added some cream. It made sense, of course, since she thought she was just here for a few days.

Although Dumbledore had been adamant that any author he brought over be kept in the dark about the real reason she was there, Sirius didn't agree. He had no problem with lying by omission; he also accepted the fact that if one of the authors was going to help them, before telling her the truth, he was going to have to get to know her quite well. However, he couldn't imagine that any woman would be inclined to help them once she knew they had been lying to her all along. It would be hard for anyone to overlook such subterfuge, but being completely honest from the beginning, as they had first tried, had been a disaster.

The thing was, he liked Zen, and he thought she'd be willing to help right now if he explained. She very well could turn out to be someone who would be able to help them without going through this charade. He hated the idea of having to charm her to get her to agree and wanted to tell her the truth and explain the whole thing, but Dumbledore insisted it was too soon.

"Was it _that_ big a mistake?" she asked.

When he looked up at her, the humorous sparkle was gone, and she looked at him with a slight, serious frown forming a tiny crease between her eyes. It took him a second to recall that they were talking about Kreacher and not Dumbledore.

"I don't know," he answered. "He sees and hears a lot, and he knows that other authors have been here before, of course."

"I thought it couldn't hurt." Now, she looked a little concerned. "Do you think it can?"

"I don't know," he said again, "but if he's not sure whether or not to believe you, he might try and test you. You know, do something to trip you up."

"Yeah." She sipped her coffee. "Do you care?"

"Me?" He chuckled. "No. If you can get the best of him, then good for you."

"No, I mean, is it going to cause any problems for you?"

"No," he scoffed, "not at all. Don't worry about it. Anyway, how'd you sleep? Everything okay?"

"Not too well, actually. I had some bad dreams."

"Sorry to hear that." He frowned at her. "Were you worrying? About being here?"

"A little, of course," she replied. "But that's not it. I think there's something unsettling about this house."

Sirius heaved a great sigh. "Yeah, this house'll give anyone bad dreams."

"It's not such a big deal. I can always take a nap if I'm tired during the day."

Nodding, he finished the richly delicious coffee and reached for the cafetière to pour another cup. "There's not much to do here. There are some books you might like to read in the sitting room. Help yourself to anything. My routine consists of feeding and grooming Buckbeak. He's the hippogriff."

She nodded. "He eats rats, right?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you get the rats that you feed him?" Zen asked with her brows lowered in a dark frown. "Not inside the house."

He couldn't help laughing because a woman's fear of rodents was comfortingly clichéd. "There might be some spiders we missed, but there aren't any rats or mice."

"I've got no problem with spiders, snakes, or even mice," she explained. "Lab rats are actually cute and sweet animals. It's the rats' _tails_ that I don't like."

"The tails?" He laughed again.

"I'm not joking. Those scaly, hairless tails," she explained with a shudder. "It's a terrible, irrational fear. Rats and opossums have that tail."

_Opossums?_ he thought in confusion as he realized she was telling the truth. "Have they got the same tails?"

"Yeah."

"But why the _tails_?"

"I don't know. It's an irrational phobia." She heaved a sigh. "It's something I have to ask you to be very careful about. Don't bring any rats into any of the rooms."

"No, 'course not," he agreed.

"Thanks. Anyway, I was wondering if there's a desk or something with a lot of light where I can sit and do some work. Paperwork – homework."

"Sure, we'll set something up."

After breakfast, he spent much of the morning helping Zen set up a makeshift desk by the window in the sitting room. He moved a broad, heavy table in there from one of the other rooms along with a sturdy chair with padded arms. When he did magic, she watched in astonishment, with wide eyes and an open mouth like a child, and then complimented him. The attention pleased him and motivated him to show off a bit; luckily, however, he caught himself before he did anything stupid.

_Get to know her_, he reminded himself._ Charm her. Don't act like an imbecile. _

It had been a long time since he had charmed a woman. It had been a long time since he had even been _alone_ with an attractive, single woman. There had been several very pretty women among the authors who had come here, but none of them had worked out for a variety of reasons – mostly because they didn't like him. He was no prize at present, so he didn't blame them. He often didn't like them as well, and he was becoming unsure that they'd ever find someone to help.

This one seemed to fit the bill, though, and he had to be careful not to ruin it. Although she was hard for him to read, Zen seemed to like him, and he had noticed her looking at him frequently. It didn't mean she fancied him, of course, but she was curious and not repelled by his appearance. Definitely not repelled as some of the others had been. He could tell that much, at least.

After lunch, he had her sit down and make a list of foods she liked and those she disliked. She assured him that she wasn't allergic to anything, which was good. Then she said she was going to do some exercises and proceeded to walk up and down the stairs from the ground floor to the top floor several times. Sirius took the opportunity to groom Buckbeak and leave her the afternoon for some time alone.

* * *

Tonks let herself into the house as carefully as possible. Over the months she had become more skilled at it. First, she went down to the kitchen, but it was dark and quiet there, so she went upstairs. As she went up, she heard voices. "Sirius?" she called as soon as she was far enough away from the paintings in the entry hall. 

"Up here!" he replied.

Tonks entered the drawing room where Sirius was sitting on the floor with a woman who was wearing a set of his robes. The two of them seemed to be going through an old trunk full of outdated clothes, but both of them stood up when they saw Tonks.

"This is Zen," Sirius said. "My cousin, Tonks."

Zen reached to shake her hand. "Nice to meet you," she said with a smile.

Tonks's handshake was enthusiastic. "Are you the new author?" The woman seemed to be getting along just fine with Sirius and was actually wearing his clothes as well!

"I suppose so," Zen replied.

"She came here just yesterday, and she needs a few things from the shops," Sirius explained as Tonks flopped down in a chair. "Would you mind popping out and getting what she needs?"

"'Course not," said Tonks brightly. "You just make a list, and I'll do it in a jiff."

"Let me get a pen." Zen headed for the door.

"We've got quills and ink here if you want," said Sirius, taking out his wand.

"I'm not in the habit of writing with a quill," Zen told him with a laugh as she left the room. "But thanks. I'll be right back," she called as she went up the stairs.

Tonks couldn't help grinning at Sirius once the other woman was out of earshot. "Nice one, that," she commented. "Looks lovely in your robes."

"Don't get cheeky," Sirius warned as he took out a purse full of money.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she assured him. "No magic at all, eh?"

"Their magic is different," he said by way of explanation as he gave her a hundred galleons.

Her eyes grew wide. "What does she need? Diamonds?"

"Get whatever she needs," he instructed. "Plus some robes, women's robes. Nice, quality ones. And whatever she wants, you know, for underneath. Some things that fit her."

Tonks didn't reply for a bit because she was frowning at him. Did he fancy this woman? It wasn't difficult to feel sorry for Sirius no matter how hard he tried to make you not. All those years in prison, the long years of loneliness, and now, trapped here in this horrible place with the memories... Tonks's heart ached with tenderness for her poor, tragic cousin.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," she assured him.

"Just tell me if you need more money."

Tonks swallowed down a lump in her throat. "This is plenty." She slipped it into her pocket. She knew he didn't care about money, but his desperation made her feel a deep compassion for him because he usually appeared so confident and self-reliant. When the woman, Zen, returned with a Muggle pen and paper, Tonks had to push those thoughts from her mind, but the pain that squeezed her heart in sympathy for Sirius remained long after.

* * *

Acknowledgments: The usual thanks to my gorgeous betas, Clara Minutes and Phoenix. 


	3. Padfoot

**Chapter 3: Padfoot**

Zen paced in the drawing room. Although it was chilly, the sun was shining through the windows and making brilliant pools on the floor. She went to stand with her feet in the light to warm her toes. _It'll be dark in a couple of hours_, she thought glumly.

She was no stranger to long, unstructured days, and with the restriction of not going out into the streets of London, she decided that a specific daily routine would be the best way to maintain good humor and sanity.

Since the basic necessities were not a worry, she decided to divide the days up into four sections based on meals: before breakfast, morning, afternoon, and evening. The earliest part of the day she was alone because Sirius was not an early riser. It had always been the best time for her to relax and plan out the day ahead, and the present was no different..

In the morning, she was at her mental sharpest, so she sat down at her desk in front of the sitting room windows. The natural light made it easier to work, and she practiced problems from her textbooks that required problem solving skills and mathematical calculations.

After eating lunch, she was often too sleepy to do anything but take a nap. It was a result of not sleeping enough at night in this creepy, freaky house. Later in the afternoon, she would practice playing the oboe. She did so while Sirius was upstairs with Buckbeak to spare him the agony of having to hear her practicing.

When she had finished that, she tended to become restless, so she decided to get some exercise. Once she had lived on the fifth floor of an old building, and the vigorous exercise of walking up and down all those flights of stairs had been good for her. Walking up and down the flights of stairs here was a major chore, but not nearly as awful as using a stair climbing machine in a gym. It was something to do as part of the regular daily routine to keep her from losing her mind. Like Steve McQueen in _Papillion_.

After dinner, Sirius would sit with her and talk, or both of them would read in companionable silence. Since finding out that she liked red wine, he always seemed to have a couple of bottles set on the sideboard in the sitting room.

_Easier to get me drunk and take advantage of me_, she thought in amusement, but the reverse was more likely. She occasionally engaged in a funny, sexy daydream of taking advantage of his imaginary tipsiness. He was such a deliciously good-looking man, and a wizard to boot! But she had to stop whenever she'd catch herself gazing at him with a naughty little smile. She could only imagine what he'd think if he saw her looking at him that way.

As she stood warming her toes in the sunlight, her eyes fell upon the big trunk of old clothes that Sirius had brought down from the attic when she had first arrived. It was pushed up against the wall, but she smiled to recall how Sirius had brought it into the room with magic. He didn't often use magic, but when he moved heavy things so easily, without awareness of how unusual it was to her, she felt a giddy thrill. Most of the everyday, convenient magic didn't interest her, but seeing him transporting the trunk or her desk through midair had riveted her.

_Typical_, she told herself with a grin. _Like a cavewoman ogling a virile caveman!_

The arrival of Tonks had interrupted their investigation of the trunk's contents, so Zen knelt down beside it and opened the lid so she could look through it.

On top was an enormous, floppy straw hat with silk flowers adorning one side, a pink linen sundress, and a dark brown cloak trimmed with feathers. All that they had seen the first night, but now she set them aside and dug down deeper into the trunk. Each succeeding item of clothing was stranger than the previous one.

There was a long pumpkin-colored skirt of gauzy cotton from India; a sleeveless linen tunic in dark green; a low-cut peasant blouse trimmed with frilly white lace; a pair of narrow men's trousers made from what seemed to be the British flag; a smart apple-green mini dress with large white polka dots; a purple velvet Nehru jacket; gold lamé leggings.

"Gold lamé?" she said aloud with a shudder as she held up the offending article.

Once she had excavated most of the textiles, she found accessories at the bottom. Among them were many strings of beads and necklaces, bracelets, brooches and pins, scarves, hats, sunglasses. Zen took out a pair of small, rectangular sunglasses and put them on and then got up to survey the effect in a mirror near the door. The image made her laugh: the sunglasses reminded her of old photos she had seen of Roger McGuinn of The Byrds.

That thought led to another. Didn't she have a Popular 60s playlist on her iPod? Would that technology even work here? Reasoning that her graphing calculator worked, she went up to her room to retrieve the little red chiffon pouch that contained the device and its accessories. Back in the drawing room, she put in the earphones and thumbed through the songs, looking for the correct playlist. Then, with the sound of the melodious opening harmonies of _Turn, Turn, Turn_ filling her brain, she began to drape the beads around her neck.

The song was nearly over when she was startled by a touch on her arm. She gasped and leapt to her feet. Sirius, looking a bit startled as well, was speaking, so she pressed stop on the iPod and removed the earphones.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, frowning at the little device in her hand.

"I was just listening to some music," she said. "I couldn't hear you."

He looked surprised and curious. "Is that some kind of magic from your world?"

As she sat back down, Zen took a moment to answer. This kind of technology would definitely appear like magic to anyone not familiar with it. "You could say that," she finally replied.

He sat beside her. "Can I hear it?"

She couldn't see any reason that he shouldn't hear the music, so she took the tiny speakers out of the pouch and set them up. The next song was by the same group, and as the exquisite Byrds harmonies filled the drawing room, she put the rectangular glasses on and handed Sirius a pair of round, green sunglasses. He hesitated, looking at her in bemusement before putting them on.

Zen couldn't help laughing when she saw them on him, for he reminded her of a cartoon character from the distant past.

"I can't possibly look as odd as you do," he quipped.

"Probably not," she said with a grin and then handed him a long string of seashells. "Try this."

He looked at it doubtfully before slipping it on over his head, and Zen had the feeling that he wanted to please her. It hung down nearly to his waist.

"This stuff is great," she told him before turning her attention to the music, for the song was ending.

"That's _not_ the word I'd use."

She laughed in delight at his dry tone as the upbeat _It's No Secret_ started up on the iPod. "Come on," she urged, taking him by the hand and pulling him up.

He smiled in self-conscious pleasure as if her attention and touch shouldn't thrill him as much as it did. "Where?" he asked, sounding almost shy.

"Let's dance."

Although he had originally let her pull him towards her, now he resisted and pulled his hand away. "What?"

"You must know how to dance," she insisted. "I bet you had to take lessons as a kid."

"Don't remind me," he grumbled.

"Then come dance," she demanded. "Take a break from the hippogriff. You know how to do it, so enjoy doing it. This is not a dress rehearsal."

She again took him by the hand. Despite his reluctance, he went with her this time. Although he sighed, she thought he wasn't as reluctant as he had tried to appear. After six years of learning social dances, she had never encountered a man who had learned how to dance who was not willing to join in if he had an able partner. She also suspected that he was willing to try anything to break the mind-numbing sameness of his days.

He did know how to dance quite well, she discovered very quickly. Like other skills, it was not something that one forgot, and a little practice brought back the moves and the memories. As soon as she led him into the first few steps, he caught the rhythm and took the lead.

A big smile appeared on Zen's face. He was tall and strong, and she could feel his warmth. It was so nice to be close to him! When he spun her, he held her hand firmly; she laughed as he swung her around with one arm supporting her waist

At first, he was a bit hesitant, but he soon moved more confidently and without missteps. His eyes were bright and warm, and he began to smile a little as if he was reluctant to enjoy it. But the more she laughed and the more confidently they moved together, the wider his grin became. Soon, he was laughing as well.

It was funny and strange. All the years of weekly social dance had paid off in many ways. She knew that Sirius was highly aware of her physically just in the way he moved and touched her, the way he was responding to the dance and to being near her. Nothing overt alerted her, but he had been in prison for a long time, so she imagined he had not had a lover since his escape. Although he did nothing inappropriate and danced well, he gave himself away with how much he enjoyed looking at her, touching her, smelling her.

There was a difference between a man who was dancing with a woman for social enjoyment and one who was exquisitely aware of how close, intimate, and sensual it all was. Instead of concentrating on the steps, he was anticipating them and drawing her closer than he had to.

When the song was over and he let go of her, she clapped her hands. "That was great!"

He grinned, flushed and breathing a little fast. "Glad I could help."

She went back to the trunk and shoveled through the piles of clothes. "With this stuff, we can both look the part," she told him as the next song started. Choosing a few garments, she tossed a jacket to him and found a long tunic for herself. After that, she unfastened the heavy winter robes she wore and slipped them off. Underneath, she was wearing baggy black trousers and a long sleeved t-shirt, both of which were too big and hung loosely on her.

As she held the tunic up to see how long it would be, she glanced over at him to see how he was faring. However, Sirius was not putting on the jacket she had given him. He was standing absolutely still and staring at her with his mouth ajar.

The look in his pale eyes was one of need, longing, and dark hunger too long unsatisfied. All this registered at once in her surprised mind and she looked away. Only then did she admit to herself that he was a real, flesh-and-blood human being, not a fictional character. How long had the poor man been celibate? Even though it had been innocent on her part, even though she had been fully clothed underneath, it was very wrong to do anything as tantalizing as taking off her robes in front of him.

"Actually, I think it's enough for today," she said as she slipped the robes back on and fastened them up quickly. He still didn't say anything, and she dared not look at him. She was afraid to see the raw emotion in his expression. "Tomorrow, after you take care of Buckbeak, we can be ready to _really_ dance."

"Whatever you want," he said, and he sounded normal.

Zen sighed in huge relief. "Let me make sure I put this away safely," she said with a half a glance at him as she made her way to the door. She'd leave him alone until dinner.

* * *

Tonks returned very briefly one afternoon with everything Zen needed except the robes that Sirius had requested; she privately promised him to have them by the following weekend. 

The long days had evolved into a companionable routine; however, Zen was looking a bit pale with dark patches under her eyes. She often had to take a nap in the early afternoon, which she jokingly referred to as her _siesta_, but he never confided in her that he had been suffering the same malady since he had come back here. Although she seemed resigned to accept this inability to sleep soundly at night, Sirius wondered if there was some remedy they could try.

It set his mind working, and an idea played around in his head. After dinner, they generally went to the sitting room and read some of the novels Tonks had brought. Zen liked to sit or lie on the sofa, and Sirius sat on the opposite end, happy for the companionship. When she lay down, she'd slip her shoes off and tuck her invariably cold toes under his thigh or backside.

At first, he was startled, but he found it charming to be thus used by a nice, pretty girl. She didn't seem to realize how familiar her actions were, but he wasn't complaining. It gave him the excuse to put his hand on her leg, which was _really_ nice.

Sometimes in the evening, Zen went to her desk by the windows and wrote. He only asked her once, the first time, what she was doing, but her concentration was focused so intensely on the words that were flowing out of her that she hardly noticed that he had spoken. Later, she told him she had gotten an idea and had to get it down.

It was late on such a night and she had written quite a bit and now lay, yawning, with her toes toasty warm under his thigh and his hand resting on her knee. It gave Sirius a cozy, warm feeling, as if he never wanted to move. Without thinking, he said, "You know, having a big watchdog at the foot of your bed might help. Protect you while you're sleeping, you see. You'd probably sleep easier."

Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked as if she wasn't quite sure whether he was joking.

_Where did_ that _come from?_ he wondered, but he knew very well that seeing her in, and out of, his robes had put inappropriate ideas in his head.

"A watchdog could be useful," she commented with a nod, "but who's going to watch the dog?"

He had to laugh, but fierce, half-forgotten excitement sizzled through his veins. She was _flirting_ with him. It had been a long, long time since a woman had flirted with him. He couldn't remember, so it must have been before…

_No. I won't think about that now._

He forced down the dark feelings of grief and horror and sought something else to say. "I'm a little surprised that you haven't asked to see me in my Animagus form yet," he said to change his dark train of thought. It was a reasonable thing to say, for all the authors wanted to see him that way, even the ones who disliked him.

She shrugged. "I'd rather look at you," she told him in an offhand, matter-of-fact manner.

Sirius grinned as the excitement coursed through him again, and he rubbed her knee. Was she serious? "Padfoot _is_ me."

"Then I'd like to see you that way." Again, she spoke with a slight shrug and no smile, but her eyes were on him, and he felt sure that she was admiring him. "But not right now. I'd rather look at you as a man."

Although he knew she was flirting with him, there was no coquettishness in her manner. _Well, the last time a girl flirted with me, I was probably twenty, and she was probably about the same age. Now we're adults._

"You look to your heart's content, baby," he said as smoothly as he could manage and with his best smile. What he was really thinking was _I know you've got no one else to look at._

* * *

The sound of scratching woke Zen from fitful sleep. The scratching continued, and there was a little whimper. _That dog_, her mind registered. 

Rising from the bed and yawning, she opened her bedroom door. The big, black dog, Padfoot, sat outside the door, wagging his tail and looking at her with soulful eyes.

"Sirius," she scowled. "You woke me up."

The dog licked her hand.

"Oh for God's sake," she sighed before turning to go back to bed. "Just stay on your side, you big doofus."

After settling back into bed and pulling the covers up, she felt the bed sag a little and the dog circled twice before settling down. She fell back asleep almost immediately.

The dog was still fast asleep when she woke in the early light. She left him but resolved to speak to Sirius about it. "Listen," she sighed when he came to breakfast. "The dog is adorable, but you can't wake me up like that in the middle of the night."

He grinned cheekily. "Am I adorable?"

The man really was dangerously good-looking, she saw, but she made no outward sign of having noticed. "You are _absurdly _handsome, and the dog is irresistibly adorable," she said in her normal matter-of-fact tone, and she saw how these words flattered him. "But that's not the point. I do need sleep, like everyone else, and I'm having trouble getting it. Do you _really_ want to wake me up every night?"

His amused gaze remained, but he also looked very pleased and softened. "Of course not," he said. "Do you _really_ object so much to a harmless dog sleeping in your room? It's better than a strange man."

It was impossible to not laugh. "You are pretty _strange_," she remarked, delighted when he grinned at her. "Well, when I go to bed, I'll leave the door open so that I don't have to be woken up by scratching. But try not to wake me up with scratching or snoring."

"Don't worry, baby, you won't hear a thing," he promised, and she felt a little blush. This was the second time he had used that endearment, and the sound of the word in his voice was lovely to her ears.

* * *

That night, when he saw that Zen was propped up on pillows reading a paperback, Padfoot leapt up on the bed and lay down on the other side from her. She didn't glance at him, so he nudged her left hand with his snout. 

Without stopping her reading, Zen began to rub his head with her fingers. The woman was obviously familiar with dogs. The she set down her book on her stomach and yawned. "Does it feel better as a dog?" she asked, looking at him. "Or do you like having your head scratched as a man, too?"

He gave her an innocent look.

"You can nod for _yes_," she teased. "Is it better to get your head scratched as a dog?"

He wanted to say, _Depends on who's doing the scratching_, but he merely shook his head to indicate no.

"Better when you're a man?"

He nodded and grinned at her.

She chuckled warmly. "I can't believe that a _canine_ is flirting with me. And are you actually _smiling_? I've never seen a dog smile before."

He grinned again and licked her hand. Too bad he wasn't in his human form!

"Sirius," she said with another yawn. "I'm going to go to sleep. Is it all right if I put the light out?"

He nodded and set his head down on his paws.

"Stay on your side."

* * *

Acknowledgment: The usual thanks go to the glorious Clara Minutes 


	4. Remus

**Chapter 4: Remus**

Feeling tired but hungry, Remus let himself into number twelve quietly. He'd been gone for longer than he'd expected, and he wasn't looking forward to having to deal with a lonely, bored Sirius. As he put away his cloak, he faced the fact that Sirius would probably be more restless and bitter than usual.

When he opened the door to the basement, he could hear voices. Sirius was laughing. _That's a good sign_, his thought to himself, wondering who was here. Perhaps Arthur or Tonks.

When he opened the door and entered the kitchen, he found Sirius and an unfamiliar woman sitting across from each other at the table and eating their dinner. The woman had long chestnut hair and wore good quality dark blue robes that fit her abominably, probably since they were men's robes.

"Sorry to disturb the party," he remarked, coming into the kitchen.

"Good to see you, mate," said Sirius. "This is Remus," he introduced with that brash, offhand charm of his. "Say hello to Zen."

She looked him over thoroughly as a warm smile appeared on her lips. "It's nice to meet you," she said in a low voice holding out her hand.

This was obviously the latest author. "A pleasure," he replied with a smile as he came closer to shake her hand.

"Remus and I were at school together," Sirius told her. "But you know all that, of course."

"A little," she said noncommittally.

"Ah, you know all my secrets, don't you?" Sirius grinned at her.

"Not _all_ of them," she replied, meeting his gaze with her own mischievous smile.

As Remus got himself a plate and some cutlery and helped himself to the dishes on the table, he was more than a little amused and pleased by the way his lonely friend was getting along with the author. Sirius was obviously intrigued by her. Well, maybe not _so_ obviously except to those who knew him well.

The pair seemed perfectly capable of entertaining each other, and by now, they must be used to it. They flirted with each other, which entertained Remus, and Zen flirted a little with him, which made him slightly uneasy. To deflect attention from himself, he asked her about herself, her work, and her studies, and she spoke easily, artlessly, and very enthusiastically.

She asked about him with equal interest and listened to what he had to say with all her attention. It was unnerving: he wasn't used to having a woman's undivided and very interested attention.

When she asked about where he had been all week, Sirius waggled a finger at her as if she were a naughty child. "No asking about Order business," he reprimanded with a glint in his eye, and Remus thought that he was being just as outrageously overt as he had always been.

_I hope he can keep from saying anything too suggestive_, Remus thought, for Sirius had a tendency to behave like an adolescent at the most inopportune times.

The woman's unperturbed reaction was a smile of amusement. It was nice to see that she could remain relatively unaffected by Sirius's considerable charm. In the days of his youth, he had been able to charm anyone and everyone.

"You're lucky to have come now and not next week," Sirius said. "Zen's going to cook tomorrow."

"I look forward to it." Remus helped himself to some more of the dishes on the table.

"I'll need some more ingredients if I'm going to feed _two_ grown men." She met Remus's eyes with a warm gaze, and he froze. He wasn't used to women flirting with him, especially since, as an author, she knew what he was. And especially since Sirius was around. Women didn't notice men like Remus when Sirius was around.

"I'm pretty sure you can handle it," Sirius remarked grinning at her in that irresistible way of his,

Only she didn't seem to notice. "Sure, no problem."

"It'll be a treat to have someone else cooking for a change," Remus remarked.

"The old saying is that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," said Zen, glancing between Remus and Sirius.

Sirius laughed. "Works for me, baby," he commented.

She smiled at him. "So I'll capture your heart with tomorrow's dinner, then?"

"We'll see tomorrow," he teased.

And then she turned to Remus. "Any possibility of capturing your heart too?"

Uneasiness nudged him. "It doesn't take that much with me," he commented. "Sirius's heart is a lot more challenging to win."

"So you're the one who falls in love with everyone?" she asked. "And Sirius is the one that everyone falls in love with?"

Remus smiled as he cut his meat. "Nothing at all like that," he remarked before taking a bite.

"Anyway, who would have _me_?" Sirius added with a guffaw.

"A great many, I suspect," replied Zen smoothly.

Sirius looked chuffed; Remus refused to allow himself more than a small smile. Although he had been very popular with girls in the days of his youth, Azkaban had exacted a terrible toll on Sirius, and he had not exactly had much time for dating since his escape.

"I still don't understand what the point is of cooking without magic," Sirius was now saying. "Doesn't it taste the same?"

"No. To eat well, you've got to do it right," she replied. "Some things are actually worth waiting for."

A glint appeared in Sirius's eyes, and a grin turned up one corner of his mouth. Although he hadn't seen it in a long while, Remus knew that look all too well and sought some way to change the conversation before his friend said something off-color. "You haven't been wearing Sirius's robes all this time?" he asked, indicating her cuffed sleeves.

She glanced down at the robes she wore. They were excellent quality robes that the upper crust of Wizarding society wore.

"Yeah. When Zen first arrived, I asked Tonks to get some women's robes for her, but she's been busy," Sirius explained. "I even gave her money, so she can't cry poverty."

Remus winced inwardly. The poor bloke had missed out on so many things while he had been unjustly imprisoned, and as generous and big-hearted as he was, he was still like a boy around a pretty woman.

"I know she's good for it, but it's a real pain," Sirius went on, oblivious, and Remus didn't need to look at Zen to know how _that_ made her feel.

"You don't have to buy clothes for me." An little frown creased the skin between her brows. "For God's sake, I'm only going to be here for a short time."

That comment made Sirius blink, and Remus spoke before he could put his foot in his mouth again. "A set of witches robes would be quite the souvenir to take home with you," he said. "Now the thing to do is contact Tonks and find out what's going on." Remus grinned. "She's not the most fashionable witch, though. Maybe it would be better to find someone else."

"That's your job, then." Sirius grinned at him now. "You've got pretty witches all over the place, eh, Moony?"

"Hardly," Remus replied before sipping his wine.

"More than me, though."

"I do actually meet females during my day," he remarked, wishing Sirius would just let it drop before he made Zen feel uncomfortable again. How in the world did Sirius manage not to offend or alienate the woman when they were alone for days? "Has Arthur been by recently?"

"No, not this whole week," Sirius replied. "No one has except Tonks, who came by when Zen arrived."

Seeing the affection and rapport that had developed between Zen and Sirius during that time, Remus suspected that Dumbledore was behind that.

* * *

After dinner, they went to the sitting room, and when Sirius got up to feed Buckbeak, Remus wondered if he should stay alone with Zen. "Shall I come with you?" he asked.

"Come with me?" Sirius repeated, uncomprehending. "No, stay here and keep Zen company. I'll be back soon."

Once he was gone, Remus turned his attention to Zen. He had already decided what to say. "You may not realize it yet, but your visit has been very good for Sirius."

"It has?" She was genuinely surprised. "In what way?"

"Well, he's stuck here while the rest of are out doing things and taking risks," he explained. "He's wasted for now. But having you here is good for him. Merlin knows, you don't need to be taken care of, but the opposite is true."

"The opposite?"

"He needs something to do. To feel useful," Remus explained. "I can see you're friends, and I think your visit could be very good for him."

Zen sat frowning at him, but concern for Sirius was apparent in her eyes. "How can my visit make him feel useful?"

He considered it. "Well, being a good host has become a kind of useful employment for him,. You've undoubtedly noticed that he thinks highly of you, he's developed a fondness for you."

She was staring at him with intensity that burned in her eyes, but she didn't speak. It made Remus wonder if she returned Sirius's regard for her.

"In his mind, this is his way of being useful. I think that letting him take care of you would be a great benefit to him."

Many emotions flashed across her face. In the end, she frowned at him. "You mean he wants to buy me things, feed me things I like to eat, see I'm comfortable? That kind of thing?"

"Exactly."

"You don't let anyone take care of you," she said.

Every instinct urged Remus to close himself to her; he hated the visits of these authors because they knew entirely too much! However, for Sirius's sake, he forced himself to be candid. "But I do," he admitted with great difficulty, "when I have to."

His sacrifice had a far stronger effect on her than he had imagined: she reached to take hold of his hand. Gently, he squeezed her hand, glad for her show of support. He had done the right thing.

The door opened and Sirius came in. "Hope that didn't take too long – " He stopped dead when he saw Zen and Remus holding hands. For an instant, he looked shocked, but then he turned away to the sideboard to busy himself with the glasses and bottles there. "Who's ready for another drink?"

"I am, and you weren't too long at all," said Remus as he slowly withdrew his hand.

The best thing right now would be for her to go over to Sirius, to reassure him with her actions, rather than words, that he had nothing to worry about. However, Sirius's reaction had been so brief that Zen may not have even noticed it.

Remus stopped to consider it. Although he knew Sirius well enough to recognize that he fancied Zen, reading her wasn't as easy. She obviously liked him and enjoyed flirting with him, but she could just be trying to make the best of being trapped here by getting along with her host as best she could.

Certainly, Remus had no talent or intuition for understanding women, and this one was a foreigner as well. From another country _and_ another world. In such things as other peoples love affairs, Remus generally remained neutral and uninvolved.

When Dumbledore had come up with this plot to recruit someone from the other world, Remus had had grave misgivings. Had it been anyone but Sirius…

As he accepted a glass of wine, Remus wondered if Sirius was in any shape to be courting a woman. Considering the fact that he had been in Azkaban prison for so many years, expecting him to woo a lady was actually cruel. The poor fellow had suffered unspeakable horrors during his years with the dementors. It was hard to imagine that he was in any state of mind to expose himself to possible heartbreak and rejection.

Although he had been ridiculously handsome in his youth, Sirius was far from those days – they all were. There wasn't a more faithful man alive, but what did he have to offer any woman?

_About as much as I do._

What sane woman would choose him? An escaped convict on the run from the law; a wrongly accused victim who had suffered years of punishment; a faithful friend who had lost his best mate and orphaned his godson due to his own arrogance; a lonely, damaged man who had been locked up for years, who had never had the opportunity to learn how to be an adult or to have a relationship with a woman.

And was it fair to an unsuspecting woman to expect her to develop affection for Sirius? And then expect her to take responsibility for him? Was it fair to expect _anyone_ to take responsibility for another person?

Remus took a sip of his drink. Zen had gone over to the sideboard to get her glass and now stood talking with Sirius. The moment had passed, and they were bantering, but their words didn't register in Remus's mind. Instead, he observed their body language.

Zen was saying something humorous, and Sirius focused on her with all his attention. His whole body had turned to face her, he was actually leaning towards her and smiling. Zen seemed a bit cooler than Sirius; however, Remus could see that she too had turned squarely to face him and that her eyes were brilliant as she gazed at him.

The situation was ironic: two people locked up alone together for hours and days had finally had the tedium broken by the arrival of a third person… and yet they continued to pay close attention to each other and not the new arrival.

_There's hope yet_, Remus thought with a tiny smile.


	5. Nightmares

**Warning: **adult situations

* * *

**Chapter 5: Nightmares**

Late one afternoon, Sirius found Zen in the drawing room. The windows were open, and she sat sideways and barefoot upon the wide windowsill with her legs stretched out in front of her. The cold winter air filled the room despite the fire crackling in the hearth. Weren't her feet cold? She who had to warm her toes under his thigh every evening after dinner?

"Dinner is going to be a little late tonight," he told her as he came over.

She turned her head to look at him with an expression that was at once peaceful and deeply melancholy. "Sorry?"

"I said dinner's going to be a bit late."

A sad smile appeared on her face. "Your action-packed schedule interfering?" she said in a feeble attempt at a joke.

Although he knew it was meant only to tease, he felt it as a jab. "No, we're having a meeting, and when we do, we generally eat afterwards."

Her smile disappeared; she swung her legs into the room and turned to him. "Stupid question." She stood up. "Sorry about that. I have a habit of speaking first and regretting it later."

He hardly knew how to answer. "A habit we share," he managed to say.

Her impulsive hand reached out and touched his forearm. For a second, he thought that she was going to embrace him. Then she seemed to reconsider the wisdom of such an action. She withdrew her hand. "I suppose that means I'm not welcome in the kitchen while you're all there," she sighed in what seemed like another failed joke.

Unaccustomed to seeing her downhearted, this despondency concerned him. He didn't imagine that being excluded from the meeting would upset her. Besides, she had been glum even before he had told her. It had been too many years since he had needed to speak gently to a woman, and he wasn't sure how to go about it.

"You know, if you're hungry, we can eat beforehand," he offered. "I'm actually feeling a bit peckish right now."

She smiled at him with real affection, but there were tears in her eyes. "No, but thanks," she said as she moved past him towards the door.

The sight of the tears sliced through his insides. "Hey – are you all right?" He turned, ready to go after her.

"Fine." She paused at the door but didn't turn back to him. "I'll be upstairs. Just let me know when I should come down."

He said nothing more and just let her go. He knew very well what it was like to want only to be alone with his misery. Instead of bothering her, he went downstairs and bellowed at Kreacher to start preparations. The others started arriving an hour later, and he was able to put his concerns out of his mind.

The meeting was long, and a lot of information was discussed. Afterwards, Dumbledore asked after Zen. "She's not feeling her best these days," Sirius informed him. "Feeling out of sorts and homesick and all that. Cooped up here with an escaped convict despite the fact that she's committed no crime."

Although he didn't smile, Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Please let her know that I hope she feels better."

At the moment, Sirius wished there was some way to wipe the knowing, satisfied look off the old wizard's face. However, he controlled himself and merely stared coolly at him. "I'm sure she'll be glad to hear it," he said without a noticeable trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, beaming.

As usual, Molly Weasley insisted on doing the cooking. Although he couldn't always stand the pushy, annoying woman, there was no denying she was a good cook. While those who were staying for dinner got settled, Sirius poured a goblet of red wine and went upstairs to find Zen. After being cooped up with him for so long, the poor thing would no doubt jump at the chance to spend time with the others.

The closed door to her room surprised him, for she always left it open for him… for Padfoot. He knocked.

"Come in." Her voice was muffled.

Pale and unhappy, she was sitting on the bed, but the impression on the pillow and the angle of her body told him that she had been lying down and crying just a moment earlier. He played it cool and pretended not to notice.

"Here, drink this," he told her as he handed her the goblet.

"Thanks." She took a sip.

"Dinner will be ready soon."

"I think I'll skip dinner. I'm not really hungry."

What was wrong with her? This behavior was strange. "Do you want to come down and say hi? Remus is here now. Dumbledore had to leave, but there are a few other people staying, like Tonks and the Weasleys." He gave her his best smile. "I've set some Sauternes in the fridge," he coaxed, knowing she'd be tempted by the delicious dessert wine.

"Not tonight. I'm too tired," she told him, and her voice was whispery, emotional. She lay down; tears leaked from her closed eyes. "Thank you."

_Go,_ his instincts told him. _Just go and leave her alone._

"Get some rest," he told her. "I'm going to leave the door open just a crack so that I can come back later."

"Okay," she whispered.

Immediately, he left. Had she said no, he would have never come back to her room even as Padfoot. When he returned to the kitchen, Tonks looked up with her usual bright smile. "Where's Zen?"

"Yeah," agreed Moody. "After what I've heard, I've been wanting to take a look at this gal."

_What has he heard and from who?_ Sirius thought. _From Tonks? Not from Moony._ "She's feeling ill," he replied. He wasn't sure what else to say.

Tonks's smile disappeared and a frown furrowed her brow. "Ill?"

Now they were all looking at him, and the room had grown quiet. Sirius flopped down into his chair and shrugged. "She's been kind of homesick, I think," he said.

They were all exchanging silent looks, which annoyed him immensely. What business was it of any of theirs anyway? Even as he settled into his chair, he knew that they had been talking behind his back.

"Maybe I should go up and see her," said Tonks. Her expression was both slightly worried and questioning.

"Someone who's homesick probably just needs some time to adjust," said Remus. "Not seventeen of us interrogating her over dinner."

Although he made no reaction, Sirius secretly blessed his friend for those words. Good old Moony.

The moment passed, as they always did, and the conversation shifted to other topics. Sirius relaxed a little although he knew that the others were curious. The dinner was delicious, as usual, and when they had settled into the meal, the kitchen door opened. Everyone looked over to see who it was.

The first thing that registered in Sirius's mind was that Zen had combed her hair quite thoroughly. He grinned.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, flashing a brilliant smile as she headed to the cupboard to get a plate.

Although she was pale and had dark patches under her eyes, she otherwise looked bright and cheerful. There was no trace of tears or sadness; on the contrary, there was something striking and compelling about her. This was a different woman than the depressed one he had seen weeping about half an hour earlier. She had certainly risen to the occasion.

As Tonks greeted Zen, Sirius also registered the fact that everyone was looking at her because she was wearing a set of his robes. Bill Weasley grinned at him while Molly pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval. _Probably thinks we're living in sin_, he thought with a little smile. _I'm just an all-around bad example to her son._

Not wanting to make the attention worse, Sirius did nothing as Tonks introduced Zen to the others and guided her to a chair at the other end of the table. Although he managed to keep up the pretense of a conversation with Bill and Remus, his ears were straining to hear what was going on down there.

He heard her say, "I've always thought that politicians are generally criminals," and then she turned to Mundungus. "Have you ever considered running for office?"

He couldn't help a chuckle, which occurred at an inappropriate point in their conversation but at the same time as laughter from Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye. Both Moony and Bill frowned at him. "Sorry, mate," he said to Bill. "I was thinking about something else."

The younger man nodded, but Moony's eyes narrowed. He let it pass, though, and Bill went on with what he had been saying. Despite his curiosity, Sirius then forced himself to pay complete attention to the conversation at hand.

No other chance to observe what was going on down there presented itself. Pleading exhaustion, Zen excused herself before dinner was over. No one could fault her, for she really looked the part. The main thing that Sirius wondered, as she said goodnight and disappeared, was whether she would leave her door open.

* * *

Everyone had nightmares, and Zen's generally stemmed from watching disturbing or violent television programs or movies too close to bedtime. Of course she had not watched any television or movies in quite a while. Now, real life disturbed her. 

In the nightmare, Sirius engaged in mortal combat with his cousin Bellatrix. There was nothing Zen could do: she could not save him. Some vicious spell hit him in the chest. Zen could not close her eyes or look away. The horror of the moment, of the scene before her, could not be tempered or mitigated. Back he fell, dying, and the gorgeous light fading from his eyes.

She screamed, but the screams of her nightmare were voiceless in the reality of her present. She woke up, shaking in terror.

Padfoot whined a little, and she sat up. The big dog was watching her from the foot of the bed, and she reached to bury her fingers in the fur on his neck. "Can you change?" she asked in a shaky voice. "I need Sirius."

He was there beside her in an instant, and she was gripping his shoulder instead of Padfoot's neck. "What is it?" he asked as he put his arm around her.

"I had a terrible nightmare." She turned to him, pressing against his chest and hugging him, and his other arm wrapped around her.

"This house'll do that to anyone." He tightened both arms. "Don't worry, you're safe here."

"Don't leave me alone," she mumbled against his chest. "Please."

"No way," he breathed into her hair.

She relaxed and breathed evenly, enfolded in warmth, soothed from the horror. Scent and sound and touch eased her. The nightmare's terror faded, and a dark warm cocoon insulated her. The air was cold; all around her, however, was strength, warmth, and comfort.

"Come on. It's cold. Get under the covers." He held her with one arm and adjusted the duvet over them before lying down with her.

Zen relaxed against him. With the feel of his arms around her, she soon fell into a sweeter slumber than before and did not wake again before morning.

* * *

When Sirius woke to bright morning light, he threw his arm over his eyes wondered if he had forgotten to draw the drapes before going to bed. Then, as he inhaled, he recognized Zen's soft fragrance, and his eyes popped open, but she was already gone. Of course, she was gone. It was well past dawn, and she was an early riser. 

Lying still, he recalled her tremulous words in the dark of night: _I need Sirius_. His heart had melted when she had said it; the recollection caused him to shiver a little. He lay still for several minutes breathing in her scent and remembering how she had slept curled up against him, so soft and warm – and wearing only an old t-shirt! It had roused old feelings, both emotional and physical, that he hadn't felt in a long time. What a gorgeous sensation it was to hold a woman in his arms!

_Not that it's likely to happen again_, he thought with a sigh as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. He hadn't even considered taking advantage of the situation, but before falling asleep, he had at least imagined what it would be like to get his hand under her t-shirt!

When he came down to breakfast, she was, as usual, writing something in one of her notebooks, but she looked up with him with a smile. "Sorry about last night, but I'm really glad you were there."

"So am I," he agreed as he got himself a mug for coffee. "But don't be sorry. I think it was the best night's sleep I've had in this house."

"Me too," she laughed. "Have you seen Kreacher today? He said he'd have the clean laundry right after breakfast."

That was all that she said about it, and the day passed uneventfully, as did most of their days. After Zen had gone up to take her bath before bed, Sirius wondered what was going to happen that night, the next night, and all the nights after that. Did he have to return to his habit of sleeping at the foot of her bed in the form of Padfoot? If he got in bed with her, would she kick him out? For some reason, he didn't think so. After all, hadn't she just admitted that she had slept well with him there?

That night, after she had fallen asleep, he went into her room. It was very dark, and she was curled on the right side of the bed. Carefully, he lifted the duvet on the left side and slid in beside her.

Moving closer, he placed one arm over her and lay still. Her slow, deep breaths told him that she was still asleep, so he tightened his arm and shifted to spoon against her back.

Excellent. He enjoyed the sweet smell of her and the soft feel of her in her thin t-shirt. Why shouldn't they share this comfort? Why should two souls trapped in this house of horrors not sleep curled around one another if it eased them? Although he was sure that Molly Weasley wouldn't approve, there was nothing wrong with sleeping in the same bed to share warmth and comfort. He only wanted to feel _some_ human contact.

For a long time, he just lay with his arm over her. Eventually, he grew sleepy, but before he dropped off, she shifted and turned over. Then she was snuggled up against him with her cheek against his shoulder and one hand holding the front of his shirt quite possessively, which pleased him.

It took him longer to fall asleep, but both of them slept uninterrupted for most of the night. In the morning, he woke early and crept out of the room before she awoke. He hoped that she hadn't even realized that he had slept with her, and at breakfast, she said nothing about it, so he imagined she hadn't been aware of his presence.

That night, when he slipped into bed with her, she was sleeping on her back. He lay on his side next to her and placed his hand lightly on her stomach. When she didn't react, he slid his hand slowly to her waist and hip and then back over her belly and up to her breasts. She didn't move or stir, and he closed his hand around one of her breasts, which was soft and firm and warm…

_This is crazy_, he told himself. After all the trouble that Dumbledore and the others had gone through, with all that was at stake, was he really stupid enough to risk everything just to fondle a woman who trusted him? He was half-aroused already, but he was certainly playing for higher stakes than a frustrated schoolboy looking for a satisfying wank.

He considered putting a sleeping spell on her because that would allow him to do whatever he wanted without her waking up. He didn't intend to _molest_ her or anything like that, of course. Somehow, however, he knew that she'd never forgive him if she ever found out, and he wouldn't blame her. _You really are despicable_, he told himself with a sigh. Turning onto his other side, he settled down with his back to her.

In the morning, he woke alone in her bed with a painful erection and the covers pulled up to his shoulders. After all those years in Azkaban, it was a surprise to him that his body even worked the way it was supposed to. He just hoped that Zen hadn't noticed; he worried about what she would say when he went down to breakfast if she had. Either she'd be angry and upset or would poke fun at him, he imagined. Whichever way, it was not going to be pleasant.

When he entered the kitchen, however, Zen was happily sipping coffee and writing in her notebook. "Good morning," she said with an absent-minded smile that he recognized. Her mind was busy with other things.

Good. Not only did she not mind, but it wasn't even worth mentioning. For Sirius, that was the same as implicit permission, so the practice became routine: he would wait until she had fallen asleep before going into her room and sliding into bed with her. And she never said anything about it, but the dark circles under her eyes faded, and her afternoon naps became shorter. _Of course_, he told himself several times, _there's nothing in the world more natural than curling up together for comfort while sleeping._

The first time that she woke up at night to go to the loo, Sirius worried that she would snarl at him to get out of her bed and leave her in peace. What happened instead was nothing short of miraculous in his eyes. She climbed back into bed, right into his arms, and nestled against him. No word was spoken, and she soon fell back asleep.

Her actions pleased Sirius very deeply and filled him with a protective, possessive feeling that he hadn't felt in many years.

* * *

Author's Note: It appears that my beta-readers are missing in action after the bloodbath in _The Deathly Hallows_. Until they recover, I'm afraid I'll have to post things completely unbetaed. Please send me an e-mail or private message if you notice any typos or inconsistencies! 


	6. The Invitation

**Chapter 6: The Invitation**

Nearly a month had passed since her arrival at Number 12, Grimmauld Place when a surprise letter pleased Zen during the grating sameness of the days. It was one of the biggest events in the month, but not the only one. Two weeks earlier, Tonks had brought her two gorgeous sets of women's robes that fit her well. Sirius had told her to hang on to his striped robes as well, so in the end, she rotated the three sets of warm robes and was quite comfortable. Getting the new robes was fun, but the biggest event, of course, was when the strong, gorgeous Sirius decided to sleep in bed with her.

He never said anything about it, but it was a such a huge comfort to her that she didn't care. Without analyzing it, she accepted that she didn't have nightmares about him dying while she was sleeping next to him. On the other hand, becoming accustomed to his presence, his warmth, and his scent was just going to make everything that much harder when the time came for her to leave. The month was up, and she was mentally preparing herself for her farewells and departure.

On the day of her pleasant surprise, when she went up to her room just before lunch, she found a parchment rectangle with her name written in an elegant, spare script on the dresser. An envelope. She picked it up and examined it. The back was sealed with wax, which seemed both charming and silly. _I'm surprised they even make sealing wax anymore_, she mused as she broke the seal.

The same strong handwriting appeared inside, and the signature was Sirius's.

** Zen ****–**

** I would be honored if you would consent to join me  
for a formal dinner in the dining room next Thursday evening at 8:00.   
Sirius**

Holding the letter up again, Zen read the words that Sirius had written there in his elegant, firm handwriting. It was too charming to laugh at and too absurd to frown over. Sirius was inviting her to dinner? The man fed her all her meals every day. He wanted to host a formal dinner? In the dining room? Why? It didn't seem like something he'd enjoy. Maybe it was to be her farewell dinner.

The thought wrenched her heart; still, she had to chuckle. Although he tried to appear careless and apathetic, Sirius had manners and a conscience as well as a certain gentleness and sweetness under that disarmingly tough exterior.

She wasn't gauche. She took a sheet of loose leaf paper and wrote very carefully:

_ Dear Sirius,_

_ Thank you for the gracious invitation.  
I would be delighted to attend your formal dinner  
and look forward to next Thursday._

_ Cheers,  
Zen_

Then she folded twice and, just as he had left his letter to her secretly in her room, she slipped undetected into his room and set it on his nightstand.

He didn't mention it, but she was later able to pinpoint exactly when he had found her reply. During the afternoon, she was working on some hard environmental modeling problems at her makeshift desk in the sitting room, and she was vaguely aware of his coming in every once in a while. Later, she realized he must have read her response, but at the time, she was concentrating too hard to spare a thought for him.

Once, he brought her a tea tray with a bone china teacup full of fragrant jasmine tea and a matching little plate with delicate little biscuits set on it. She had been deep in concentration, so he had just set down the tray without saying a word. The gesture pleased and touched her, however, and she blinked to clear her mind of difficult concepts.

"Thanks," she said, flashing him a grateful smile.

He was looking at her rather strangely, and she wasn't sure whether he was feeling confused and was trying to figure something out or if he wanted to say something that he wasn't willing to actually voice aloud.

"It's nothing." He shrugged, but he was still looking at her as if he were uncertain about something. Later, he realized that he had probably just found and read the reply, but at the time, she just took a sip of the steaming hot tea. It was wonderful. By now, Sirius knew she didn't like tepid tea or coffee.

By dinner time, she had forgotten all about the formal dinner. When she went up to her room to get ready for her evening bath, she saw the original letter and wondered why he had said nothing about it. Whatever his reason, she thought as she twisted her hair up on her head and secured it in place, she wouldn't mention it either.

* * *

Remus entered Grimmauld Place in the mid afternoon and was surprised to hear music coming from upstairs. "Sirius?" he called as he went up. There was no reply, but he could hear them laughing. It seemed to be coming from the drawing room, so he imagined they had turned the Wireless up very loud. In the doorway of the drawing room, he froze, for the pair inside was dancing and laughing while dressed in bizarre old clothes. 

Sirius was wearing a purple velvet Nehru jacket over tight-fitting trousers with a Union Jack motif, and round green sunglasses made him look like a giant insect. Zen wore layers of long, flowing gauzy garments and small, rectangular sunglasses. When Sirius swung her around, the long skirt and her hair floated out around her, which was rather pretty.

As much as he knew about the fashions and trends of the hippies and flower children of the sixties, Sirius and Zen looked like weird rejects even to Remus, who was no fashion plate himself. The other thing was that they danced with abandon. Remus knew that he could never dance in front of people, and he could certainly never be this unselfconscious. But Sirius and Zen went on laughing, singing, and dancing, blissfully unaware of their audience.

_ Baby, I've got no more foolish pride  
Baby, I must have you by my side  
_

They looked good together. Obviously they were accustomed to dancing together, so that was probably what they got up to when no one was about. Remus leaned against the doorframe, smiling. It was a lovely thing to see Sirius happy.

It was this lack of self-consciousness that Remus had always admired and envied about Sirius. Remus's whole life had been one of secrecy and anxiety over how others perceived him. No, Remus would never behave like this, with such abandon, not even when he was completely alone.

Deciding that they should be left alone, Remus backed away slowly. He wasn't worried that they'd feel embarrassed or spied upon if they saw him. Rather, he was afraid that Zen would insist that _he_ dance as well. He crept up to his room and found a note from Sirius asking to talk to him in private. Apparently, he needed help with something that was a secret from Zen.

Later on, he was able to talk to Sirius while Zen was doing some work at her desk in the sitting room. "I want to set up a romantic evening," said Sirius with unusual gravity, "but I can't do it on my own while I'm trapped here."

Remus wasn't sure exactly what he was getting at, but he could tell it was important, so he sat and really listened.

"I can't leave the house. That's a given," Sirius stated. "I want to take Zen on a date, a proper date, but it has to be in the house."

The idea was too bizarre for Remus to understand. A date? In the house? On the other hand, he knew he had never had the creativity that Sirius had, so he resigned himself to do as he was told. "What do you propose to do?"

"Well, get some special food. I mean gourmet, epicurean stuff. She likes that stuff. Someone to serve better than Kreacher. Us dressed up in good robes. Some really good wine."

Finally, Remus understood what he meant. "A real date," he mused. Even if they brought in fancy gourmet food, it wouldn't be easy without a house elf. Then a thought struck him. "I think it'd be a nice diversion for both of you," he said, "but there are a few things you need to do."

"What?" asked Sirius with impatience.

"First of all, you need to get yourself some formal robes. Decide what kind of food you want. Pick out a menu. Get her some flowers."

"I can do that," said Sirius. "What else?"

"Then provide the lady with some breathing space. For Merlin's sake, don't ask Tonks to help her! Give her some money and don't interfere. Let her make her own arrangements for pretty robes and… nail varnish and all that."

"Nail varnish?" Sirius stared at him in astonishment as he could not comprehend the fact that a woman would want to look pretty for him.

"I think a fashionable witch could help out best in these circumstances. Let me take care of that."

* * *

There was a meeting of the Order; as usual, Zen went up to her room to relax and read her novel. Of course, she couldn't concentrate on her book and ended up rereading Sirius's invitation and thinking about this strange month that had passed while she lived there with him. 

She knew he had been desperately lonely for a long time and that he would lavish attention on almost anyone who was stuck here with him. On the other hand, they were trapped together in such extraordinary circumstances and got along excellently. Usually, a man who wanted her constant attention drove her mad, but she didn't mind with Sirius, who often left her to her precious solitude.

She thought about how things might have turned out if they had met under the circumstances of normal lives. If they had met at a party or a sporting event or a concert or dance or a cooking class, what would have happened? Would they have been attracted to each other? Would he have asked her out, and if so, would she have gone? Would they eventually have come to know each other as well as they had at close quarters? Would he have preferred another woman? Dumbledore had said that many other authors had come here. Had Sirius developed feelings for any of them? That thought made her feel sour and jealous.

_Oh, for God's sake!_ she told herself. _Not that it's any of business of yours! Same as your love life is no business of his._

She imagined for a second that she went for Remus instead of Sirius. The werewolf was certainly attractive enough, and he was a funny, gentle man, the exact kind of nice guy she usually preferred. Zen knew that she could have gone for him under other circumstances, but thinking of settling for him instead of Sirius made her feel a sharp pang of grief. No, although Remus was quite a catch, she had fallen for Sirius.

_Just what I need,_ she thought with a sigh. _Could be leaving tomorrow and I fall for the Wizarding World's Most Wanted._

She felt tears burning and soreness at the back of her throat, but then someone knocked. Sirius, no doubt, for Remus wouldn't come to her room, and no one else had a reason to seek her out. No one else has such rotten timing, either! She folded the letter and stuck it in her book and then slapped her own cheeks to clear her head. "Come in," she called, sitting up straighter.

A petite woman in stunning lavender brocade robes opened the door and entered, and Zen stared at her. The carefully braided coils of dark hair, the pale face, the exotic eyebrows – it was her creation in flesh and blood. The Contessa di Janarra.

"I am sorry to disturb you," said the lady in beautifully accented English.

"Calyxa di Janarra," Zen breathed, still staring.

The little Italian witch smiled sweetly. "Good evening. Remus asked me to speak with you." She closed the door and came closer.

"Please sit down," Zen invited, trying not to stare openly at the slight, graceful form of the contessa. She wasn't beautiful, but she was elegant and very sweet-looking. What a perfect pair she and Remus made! Zen smiled to think of it.

"Thank you." Calyxa settled on the edge of the bed and examined Zen much more subtly that Zen was examining her.

"I didn't realize you were at the meeting," said Zen.

"I was not," she replied. "Remus asked me to see you while Sirius was occupied in order to help you prepare for your dinner next week."

"That'd be great. I can use all the help I can get," Zen said with truthful humor, but she was still staring. The contessa's lack of contractions made her sound oddly formal. _Like Data from _Star Trek_, just as I had imagined._

Calyxa smiled warmly. "Perhaps we can start with robes." She conjured an image of deep green robes with a moderately cut neckline.

"Green doesn't really suit me," said Zen.

"Very well." Another gesture caused the image to shiver and break into three images: dark blue, red, and violet.

"The purple, I'd say,"

"That is what I would have chosen for you," Calyxa admitted. She waved her hand again, and the three images changed. Now, they were all violet, but one set was styled off the shoulder, one set had a narrow, plunging neckline, and the third had a wide v-neck.

"That one." Zen pointed to the robes with the v-neck.

"A lovely choice."

"Let me get some paper to make a list of things you can get me," said Zen, getting up to fetch a sheet of loose leaf paper.

"Certainly. Gocciolina, my House-elf, will come here on the day of the date," Calyxa informed her. "She is very talented in grooming skills, so she may help you to prepare."

"Date," repeated Zen, blinking, the list forgotten. It that what Remus had told her? Is that was Sirius had told _him_?

"I must say that Sirius really is a fine man and a soft-hearted one," Calyxa said gently, "once one sees past all his defenses. But I doubt you need me to tell you that."

_I'm an idiot_, Zen realized. Here was an excellent resource: Calyxa was an empath and could recognize exactly what Sirius was feeling. But would she share her insights?

"I need to ask you something important," she prefaced, and Calyxa grew quiet. "You know that Sirius and I have been living here together all alone for about a month."

"Yes, I know."

"And Remus has told me, more than once, that Sirius has grown fond of me."

"He _has_ grown fond of you," Calyxa assured.

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking that he has no choice. There's no one else to be fond of. You know what I mean? That if he was free, he wouldn't…" Zen heaved a sigh. "Do you think he's genuinely fond of _me_? Or is it more the circumstances forcing us together? If there were ten other women here, maybe he'd prefer someone else."

Calyxa blinked slowly, and her eyes became soft and unfocused.

_Crap!_ thought Zen with a chuckle. _She's using her mojo on me!_

"He has genuinely tender feelings for you that would have developed under any circumstances," the Italian witch answered. "What you do not know is that you are not the only woman to come here. Many other authors from your world have stayed here."

"_Many_? How many?" asked Zen in surprise. "All female, of course."

"Yes, of course they were all female," said Calyxa. "I do not know how many, but I can find out. It was a large number. Perhaps twenty."

"Twenty!" cried Zen. Twenty assorted female writers. Suddenly, the lonely bachelor no longer seemed so desperate and needy.

"At least." Calyxa was almost grinning. "As far as I know, you are the only one he has liked."

The news struck a deep chord with Zen. "I see."

"He truly is a good man. And – he is passionately fond of you. These close quarters may have accelerated the pace of things, but they certainly did not fabricate anyone's feelings."

At these words, Zen regarded Calyxa with a frown. "Do you intend to tell him – or Remus – that I care for him as much as I do?"

At first, Calyxa looked surprised. Then she laughed. "Certainly not! That man needs to pursue you, to court you, to win you. He _needs_ this. I shall not do anything to make it easier, and neither should you."

* * *

Author's note: I'm still working without a net (i.e. beta readers), so please let me know if you spot any typos or inconsistencies! 

Song lyrics:**  
**_It's Getting Harder All the Time_  
Performed By: The Mindbenders  
Composed by Charles Albertine  
Lyrics by Ben Raleigh


	7. The Date

**Chapter 7: The Date**

In all the time he had known Sirius, Remus had rarely seen him so uncertain. If he had thought about it just a day earlier, he would have said that a little humility wouldn't do Sirius any harm. Now, though, Remus wished he would flash a cocky grin and say something outrageous because it was actually painful to see him this way. Dressed in carefully pressed good robes, hair combed neatly, holding a little bunch of flowers, he looked anxious and uncomfortable as he waited for Zen. As Remus had thought since the beginning, it was cruel to expect Sirius to court a woman and expose himself to pain and rejection.

On the other hand, he recalled the numerous times he had arrived in the evening and found the two of them together in the sitting room. A few times, Remus had discovered one of them reading aloud from a thick novel: Zen lying on the sofa and Sirius sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the sofa. More often, they played some unfamiliar Muggle games that Zen liked or sat together on the sofa reading in companionable silence. It was a charming enough sight to imagine there was a possibility of a developing romance.

"You'll have a good time tonight, the two of you. With the food and wine and everything, she'll definitely be pleased," Remus told him, hoping these words would make him relax. "Then you can plan more romantic evenings. I'm sure she'll agree. This is just the first step."

"Did she say anything about me to Calyxa?" Sirius asked with a frown. "What did she tell you?" He scowled. "Women always tell each other everything and leave us to figure it out on our own."

Remus had to grin. How right he was! Before he could answer, however, the Italian witch Apparated besides them with a pop.

"She will be down in a minute. Oh! How splendid you look!" Calyxa declared to Sirius with an astonished smile. "So handsome!"

Sirius smiled a little. "Thanks."

"She is a lucky woman to have attracted your attention," she said with a sweet expression of affection on her face. "If you recall, I told you there were women who would appreciate you."

"Yeah, you did," he replied, but Remus didn't think he believed it.

"Enjoy yourselves," Remus told him. "We'll be at Calyxa's in case you need us."

The lady reached up to kiss him on each cheek. "But you will not need us, of course," she said with a twinkling smile before she and Remus both Disapparated. 

* * *

Zen sat back in her chair and watched with a smile as Sirius savored the last bite of his dessert. The date was actually going much better than she had expected. Probably because she and Sirius got along so well and so easily, not to mention the fact that the man was nearly gorgeous. Of course, the exceptional dinner and many glasses of good wine might have had something to do with it.

"You look very contented," he remarked with a smile of his own before taking a final swallow of his drink.

"I am," she sighed. "I usually say we ate like kings after a good meal, but tonight, I think I have to say we ate like emperors."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He continued to gaze at her with that warm smile that made her feel weak and languid. "If you want a digestive or some coffee, we should go to the sitting room."

"Okay, but I don't think I can walk!" she declared.

"We can always roll you, I suppose." he commented.

"If I had eaten one more bite, you would have to." She got up, but she stumbled on the way out of the dining room and laughed. "I think I'm a little drunk."

"Here. Let me help you." He grasped her arm to lead her.

"Thanks." It was rather nice to be led since this was the first time she had eaten in the dining room and the way was unfamiliar.  
In the doorway of the sitting room, Sirius grasped her other arm and turned her to face him. "You're not really drunk," he said, laughing, warmth in his eyes.

"No," she agreed, laughing with him and leaning back against the doorframe. "Just a little, maybe." She allowed her gaze to caress him. God, he was beautiful!

His hands left her arms and closed on her waist. To return the hug that she anticipated, she raised her own hands to his upper arms. He was powerfully strong, she realized with a happy sigh. "Not really drunk," he purred. "Just a little." He leaned closer, smiling. She wondered what he was going to say as he bent down to speak in her ear.

His kiss pressed against the corner of her mouth; with an awkward shift, he was kissing her on the lips. Zen was shocked, but the gorgeous sensation of the tender kiss, of being pressed gently between him and the doorframe, was making her feel lightheaded.

When he raised his head and saw her shock, his expression grew uncertain and vulnerable. "I thought you might feel the same way," he murmured in a low voice like an apology. His gentle hands still rested on her waist, but then he drew back to give her the chance to move past him, as if he didn't want to frighten her by blocking her escape. "Shall I stop?" he said very softly. "Just leave you alone?"

She didn't say anything but drew in a shaky breath. Although she wanted to tell him that she wasn't able to have a casual relationship, there was nothing casual between herself and Sirius. This wizard, this man – this beautiful, damaged man – she cared about him. She loved him.

It was still early enough to break it off and keep her pain to a minimum, for if she allowed this to go on, she would only fall more deeply and passionately in love with him. Then the pain of their parting would be excruciating, debilitating.

_Don't be stupid_, Zen told herself fiercely.She did not live on some grey path of mediocrity to avoid pain. She traveled the path towards wisdom embracing both joy and pain. _If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, would you be pushing him away tonight? _

She gazed up at him; he was confused, uncertain, and – she hated herself for this one – in pain. He looked so fragile and uncertain that tenderness flooded her heart. "No," she murmured. "Don't stop."

The response caused Sirius's eyes to widen. If possible, he looked even more vulnerable. With agonizing slowness, he leaned to kiss her again.

Even though Zen didn't think she was ready for this, at least she knew the kiss was coming this time. He pressed his lips to hers lightly, and out of instinct, she nibbled at his luscious, full lips. She couldn't help herself.

Sirius groaned and broke off the kiss. He propelled her into the room and over to the sofa where she found herself sitting against the backrest with him pressed close beside her. That such a little action on her part could have such an effect surprised her. _He must be very hungry for affection, desperately so. Aching for it. _She reached her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her again a little more confidently. One hand was stroking her hair and the other was slowly rubbing her waist and hip.

She sighed happily as her hands moved over his back and shoulders and hair. His mouth caressed hers with slow, gentle movements. Zen's senses knew nothing but Sirius: the feel of his warmth and muscles under his robes, the scent of him filling her nostrils and her brain, and the delicious taste of him. Sirius was everywhere. His mouth was on hers, his chest pinning her back against the sofa, his hand sliding slowly over her waist, hip, and thigh.

The long lazy kisses and caresses were lovely, and she could sit here all evening necking with him. The betrayal came from her body, though, as his tongue probed into her mouth and roused dark passions within her. His deep, delicate kisses stirred feelings that she couldn't control. It was hard to remember anything, and as a soft moan of pleasure escaped her throat, she wondered again if she was really ready for this. After all, they had a few days left together at most, and then they would neither see nor hear from each other again.

Sirius stopped kissing her and, instead, held her against him. "I'm going a little bit fast for you, I think," he said breathlessly.

Zen held on to his wide, hard shoulders, feeling his heavy breathing and rapid heartbeats. Strange. She had imagined he had not had a lover since his escape from prison, but his luxurious lovemaking was not indicative of a desperate man who hadn't been with a woman in more than a decade. Not that it mattered; she intended to follow his lead. Their time together was so short that she knew she had to savor every moment.

"Just a little," she murmured against his shoulder.

"Sorry 'bout that." He sat back so he could gaze at her. "I guess you're my girlfriend," he said, smiling.

_Girlfriend? Is he serious?_Zen thought. "I guess," she echoed, wondering what was going on in his mind. Had he forgotten that their time together was nearly up? Couldn't he think of a more grown up word than one used by adolescents?

His smile had disappeared. "Of course, I'm jumping to conclusions." He spoke lightly, sitting back even further to put some distance between them. "You certainly don't have to let me kiss you. I'm sorry. I've taken terrible advantage of you while I'm supposed to be keeping you safe and comfortable."

At that moment, she finally realized the terrible power she had to hurt him and that to him, the short time they had together didn't matter at all. "No." She reached out to take hold of one of his hands. "It's just been a while since I've been with a man, so I'm a little rusty."

Immediately, his fingers tightened around her hand, and he nodded, looking hugely relieved. "Yeah, I know about being rusty!" Then he sighed. "It's being stuck here that makes everything so hard, you know. I mean, how is a man supposed to get to know someone properly when they're forced to stay in the same few rooms twenty four hours a day?"

His choice of words startled her. _Get to know? _Is that what he was doing? When her departure was due any day now? "It is an unnatural situation," she agreed

"And it's a… an _unusual_ arrangement we have." He seemed a little uncomfortable. "I don't think anyone else would understand, you know?"

She knew that he meant sleeping in the same bed, and she agreed that no one would understand. "Yeah, I know."

"I don't want to give that up."

"Neither do I," she agreed. It was all so complicated that she could hardly unravel her own feelings, never mind determine what she wanted to do. _Might be gone tomorrow, anyway_, she thought.

"We'll have rules," he informed her. "We'll keep to a sort of schedule."

"Rules?" she asked with a laugh. "Schedule?"

"We'll have dates maybe twice a week," he continued, sounding far more sure of himself than he had a few minutes ago. "If that's all right with you. That's when I can kiss you – only on date nights. Other than that, hands off. Like at night."

She laughed again. "Hands_off_? Like at night?"

His face paled a little, and he looked guilty. "I might have the odd naughty fantasy, but I would never molest any woman."

This honest admission made her feel a deep pang of affection for him. "Yeah, I know." What she really meant was, _do you think I'd be letting you sleep in my bed if I didn't know? _

"So, twice a week? Date nights and rules?"

Schedules and rules and tender kisses and very little time left? "If you think it'll work."

"Of course it'll work." He gave her that gorgeous, self-confident smile of his. "I'll make it work."


	8. Trying to Like Him More

**Chapter 8: Trying to Like Him More  
**

Because he was taller, Sirius generally took up most of the sofa, but it didn't make much difference. In the gloomy March chill, Zen claimed to value him as a foot-warmer; she still tucked her toes under him, and everything fit together comfortably. Although lying on the sofa with their legs entwined could be considered an intimate position, they were well-accustomed to each other by now, and the contact was more of a familiar comfort. Just like sleeping in the same bed: intimately comforting, not titillating.

On the other hand, for the past few weeks, she had agreed to let him kiss her on date nights and seemed only a little hesitant when he did. He liked to flatter himself that she liked it. What bothered him, though, was that she never touched or kissed him. _Well, first things first_, he kept telling himself. She had agreed to the dates, to the courtship. She always enjoyed, or _seemed_ to enjoy his kisses and embraces. Plus, she flirted shamelessly. Of course, she flirted with everybody, but not the way she flirted with _him_.

Any matter, he was wooing her slowly, taking his time to win her over. Once she started liking him more, once she _wanted_ to like him more, she might want to touch him. She might want to kiss him. She might even want to do more than that, but that was too far down the line, so he wouldn't let himself think about it.

The truth was that he had a powerful, painful longing for her to touch him, but he wanted her to do it willingly, without being asked. Of her own accord. Even if she eventually left him or decided that she didn't want to help him, he wanted her to love him now. Even if it was just for a few days. His parched soul ached for it. But he kept his longing under control. It would be a mistake to let her see how desperate he had become.

Not that _desperate_ was really the right word. Over the course of several months, Dumbledore had brought a score of ladies to meet him, but none of them had worked out before now. On the whole, they had not liked him, or at least not enough. He'd disappointed them. Of course, he'd disappointed himself often enough, but in the case of many authors who looked at him with that sad, forced smile, it was their expectations that he had failed to meet.

Many of them had expected the young Marauder of the past with flawless looks and an arrogant attitude. These women had merely been searching for someone to flatter their own egos. Although he understood, their distaste hurt him, and he had been forced to hide his pain.

Others had feared philandering, which had shocked him. Never in his life had he misled anyone or proved unfaithful to a girl. It stunned him that someone could imagine that he would. He had asked Calyxa, in confidence, what it was about him that made these authors not trust him, and she had replied, quite soberly, that it was because he was unusually good-looking. Except that she had used the word _pretty_, which amused and annoyed him. Dumbledore eventually explained that it was the result of many authors portraying him as a womanizer in their stories, but Sirius could never understand why.

His thoughts came back to the present when Zen set down her book and got up to refill her wine glass. He stretched out his legs and propped his feet on the opposite armrest. What to say?

"Bring the bottle over so you can refill it here from now on," he instructed.

"If I bring the bottle over, I'll drink more and have to get up to go to the loo more." She uncorked the wine bottle.

"Not good," he sighed. "It makes me feel like a lost sock."

"What?" she asked as she poured.

"Like a sock that's lost its mate in the laundry," he teased. "Not quite complete. That's how it feels when you desert me for the loo."

She laughed, seeming quite pleased as she finished pouring her drink. "That's actually pretty poetic," she observed, corking the bottle. "Especially considering you used the very unpoetic word _loo_."

He picked up his glass from the coffee table and took a sip. "It's the poetry in my soul," he informed her before setting it back down and stretching his arms over his head.

She came over and sat down on the little bit of sofa by his waist and set her glass down as well. "You reveal so much to me!"

"It's okay," he grinned at her. "I trust my fellow sock to protect my deep, dark secrets." He stretched again, luxuriously.

The skin crinkled around her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned up as she regarded him with a warm look. "Is it all right if I kiss you?" she asked.

He froze in mid-stretch as his heartbeat broke into a dead gallop. "Of course it's all right," he said so quickly that his words ran over each other. "Anytime you want, baby." He held his breath as she placed one hand on his shoulder and leaned down to him.

She pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. With sensuous slowness, she nibbled his lips and caressed his mouth with hers. Her other hand cupped his jaw and stroked his neck beneath his ear.

Sirius lay as still as he could, afraid to break the moment. She actually _wanted_ to kiss him when it wasn't a date night. He brought his arms down and stroked her hair but did nothing more. It was one of the sweetest moments he had ever spent with Zen, as sweet as the first time she had willingly returned to sleep in his arms, knowing full well what she was doing. This was perhaps sweeter because it was a slow, romantic kiss, not just the comfort that helped her sleep.

When she stopped kissing him, she laid her head upon his chest like she did when she went to sleep. Not wanting to do anything wrong, anything that might startle her or drive her away, he merely laid his arms lightly across her. He certainly dared not speak.

She lay against him for several long moments, long enough for his wild heartbeat to slow down. He was brave enough to allow one hand to pet her hair. No thoughts bothered his mind; rather, the sensations were all that he knew: the silky texture of her hair, the soft warmth of her body, the lovely scent of her fragrance.

Unexpectedly, she raised her head again to look at him with soft eyes. Two fingers brushed over his lips, and then she leaned to kiss him again.

_Gods and goddesses_, he thought with a shiver. He could get used to this, he knew. She was kissing him _again_ without him initiating anything! Perhaps… perhaps she really _did_ like him, or was trying to. Trying hard to like him. It was a good sign.

His reluctance to accept Calyxa's gentle assurances that there were women who'd appreciate him evaporated. Zen obviously cared for him, was fond of him. Perhaps if he didn't do anything to ruin it, she might even grow to… _love_ him. He felt his heart go liquid-soft within his chest.

The thought was a far-off dream. When she broke off her latest kiss, Zen sat up and didn't look at him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

The puddle that had been his melted heart suddenly iced over. "Why not?" he managed to ask in a gentle tone even though he felt frozen.

She actually turned to look at him. "I broke the rules," she admitted rather regretfully. "No kisses except on date nights."

"No – wait a minute." He propped himself up on his elbows. "That's not for _you_. You're allowed to do anything you want to me."

She glanced at him with a frown so severe that she seemed almost to be glaring.

"I don't mean to sound indelicate," he added quickly, sitting all the way up, "but it _is_ the truth. The rules are for _me_."

The frown had faded. She still looked at him with a cautious, uncertain expression, though.

"The rules are to make you feel safe," he went on. "So you'll know that I won't try to … take advantage of any situation where all you need is comfort."

Her eyes unfocused as she considered it. Sirius felt all his hope shriveling as she turned her gaze inward. Had he ruined everything with the wrong words?

Before the horrible dread could spread too far, he took action, like a proper Gryffindor. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, smiling his best. "You can kiss or touch me whenever the fancy strikes. I'll just be a big toy for you." He saw her smile and rejoiced.

"A big toy," she repeated with a laugh and a shake of the head.

"Yeah." He winked and grinned lazily. "If it works, I'm thinking of selling Sirius dolls. Everyone will want one."

"You _are_ a doll," she commented with a smile.

He felt a jolt at this flattering remark. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, he sought something light. "The one and only, baby. Your faithful toy doll." She nodded and smiled a little, but her expression was a bit uncertain. "Come on, sit next to me," he coaxed, encouraging her to sit close beside him, and she did. He held her with one arm around her shoulders.

They both sipped their wine; her free hand rested lightly on his thigh. It was probably an innocent gesture on her part, but he liked to think that perhaps she was feeling a bit possessive. He loved the idea of belonging to someone, especially to her.

He knew she longed to go home and wasn't interested in him the way he wanted her to be, but she had agreed to let him court her. He figured that meant she liked him, at least a little. Enough to give him a chance. He didn't think she would let him kiss her if she didn't, and she had, after all, agreed to be his girlfriend while she was here. Since she wanted to try kissing him when she didn't have to, she must be trying to like him more, trying to get used to being with him and seeing if she wanted to _stay_ with him.

He drew in a big breath. "If you like me enough to try kissing me when you don't have to…" He broke off, unsure how to continue.

"I do," she volunteered.

Sirius felt his heart clench within his chest. He squeezed her shoulders with his arm. "You're willing to give me a chance. In all seriousness, don't think the rules apply to you. I mean, you've given me date nights when you didn't have to. If you want to see how much you like kissing me, I'm honored."

He heaved a huge sigh. She had to realize that he was flexible and willing to do just about anything to win her. In her two months here, she had asked him for very little: certain foods, warm robes, no rats… Did she realize he would give her whatever she wanted? Probably not.

That she actually wanted to kiss him without his asking… He shook his head. "I'm not exaggerating when I say you can do anything you want."

"You don't know me, though," she replied. "You don't know how my tastes run."

"Are you a deviant?" he asked in amusement. "Does that mean you want to tie me up and whip me?" Such an experience could prove interesting. He had only seen her roused to anger once, and that had been about a week earlier when she had been unable to elicit a response from Dumbledore about when she would be going home. It had turned Sirius on to see her that way, flushed and fiery and breathing hard… Then he considered something else. "You don't … like _girls_, do you?" he asked worriedly.

She laughed. "Nothing like that." Her fingers slowly stroked his thigh.

"Well, when we get there, I'm willing to try anything," he assured her.

She didn't say anything at first. "When we get there," she finally echoed, "so am I."

His breath caught, and he blinked. "Baby," he said softly, squeezing her shoulders again, "you don't have to say that."

There was a long silence, and she was still stroking his thigh. "What if 'when we get there' isn't the same time for both of us?"

"No, don't think that," he urged. "I'll wait as long as I have to." And he would.

* * *

Author's notes:  Thanks for comments, everyone. I can assure you that, as fun as this might be to read, no one is having as much fun as I am... 


	9. Stealing a Little Electricity

**Chapter 9: Stealing a Little Electricity**

Remus let himself into Grimmauld Place about an hour before the meeting. The house was usually fairly quiet at this time of day, but he heard voices from upstairs, so he hung up his cloak and went up to see what was going on. Perhaps some of the other Order members had arrived early, which would be a nice diversion for the housebound pair. Sirius had mentioned that Zen was occasionally grumpy and depressed with homesickness; Remus tried not to think about how awful it must be when the two of them were depressed at the same time!

In the sitting room, a sea of cardboard cartons and plastic wrappings surrounded a device he recognized: a television set. With the instruction booklet dangling from her fingers, Tonks stood looking back and forth between Zen and Sirius, who stood facing each other.

"You _know_ this can't work here!" Sirius sounded furious. "You should've told Zen how dangerous it is!"

Before Tonks could reply, Zen asked, "But _why_ won't it work? At least explain that."

"We haven't got electricity," Sirius explained as if she were an irritating, slow-witted child, "and with the amount of Dark Magic that's engrained here, you're lucky you both survived bringing it the house!"

Again Tonks tried to speak, but Zen cut her off. "Well, electricity is actually very simple," she told him quite calmly. "It's easy to build an electrical cell if you have the right pieces. That doesn't matter anyway. All we really had to do was steal a little bit of power."

"Steal?" Remus asked as he came into the room. He hoped it was just an unfortunate choice of words "Steal _power_? How can you do that?"

They all glanced at him. Sirius looked angry, Tonks worried, Zen amused. "It's not too difficult actually," said Zen, smiling at him. "By splicing one of the neighbors' power cables."

"Splicing one of the neighbors' power cables?" snapped Sirius. "You mean _live electrical wires_? Are you out of your mind?"

"Not really. Why?" asked Zen.

"It's too dangerous!" the wizard exploded. "You can't go outside the house, and you're _certainly_ not going to play around with something as dangerous as electricity."

"I'm not?" she asked with raised brows, and Remus thought she was even more amused.

"You can't really be that stupid."

"If this one little thing makes me stupid, then I suppose all the crazy, dangerous things that you've done make you an idiot."

He rolled his eyes and turned to the other woman. "Tonks, I expect you to get rid of all this safely and without involving Zen. I won't allow it."

"You _won't allow_ it?" Zen's voice was cool and faintly acidic now, and Remus realized that he had been wrong, that she had definitely not been amused. "I guess playing the _jailor_ gives you some kind of vicarious thrill and makes you feel useful."

Remus and Tonks both stared at her in shock, neither of them knowing what to say. Some powerful emotion had rendered her eloquent and cruel. Her words certainly sliced at Sirius with the precision of a scalpel.

"It's only to protect you," Sirius shot back.

"_Protect_ me?" she repeated with a chuckle. "From what? Death Eaters? Or electrical shock? Or yourself?"

From the way Sirius blanched, Remus knew that the sharp blade of her words had wounded him deeply. Sirius had probably made some kind of unwelcome advances towards her that she had rebuffed. Having made himself scarce for the past couple of weeks, Remus wasn't certain how their romance was progressing. Was that the reason for such a vicious argument now?

"Anyway, the deed's done." Zen still spoke in a conversational tone although Remus knew now that the brilliance in her eyes was anger and not joy.

"Done?" Sirius repeated, his frown darkening.

"Yesterday." With an unpleasant smile, she held up the end of a power cord that ran out the open crack of the nearest window.

Sirius glared at her and then went to look out the window. "Did Tonks help you?"

"Just getting the equipment, mostly," Tonks answered, looking uncomfortable and sounding uncertain. "And a couple of Disillusionment Charms, especially when she was climbing the pipe. But I did make sure the – "

"Climbing _the pipe_?" Sirius nearly growled as he turned back to them. "_What _bloody pipe?"

"I climbed the neighbors' drainpipe to reach the power cables," said Zen with a grin, and Remus had the horrible feeling that she was enjoying Sirius's agitation, that she was goading him on purpose and was about to burst out laughing. "You should have seen it. It was great."

"You should know better than to let her do something that dangerous," Sirius snapped at the other woman.

"_Let_ her?" asked Tonks warily.

"Don't blame her because you're annoyed at me," Zen retorted.

"I'll get to _you _when I'm finished with her," he snarled, growing even angrier. "I just can't believe you've both been so bloody reckless and stupid!"

"Spoken by the true master of recklessness himself," Zen taunted. "You know, Tonks doesn't play the part of prison guard as well as you do." The cruel words were spoken in a mild voice. "I guess she hasn't had the same opportunity you've had to observe how it's done."

Remus knew that she had gone too far even before she had finished speaking. Tonks did as well, and he imagined that even Zen realized it because Sirius went white and drew in a sharp breath. "You're a cold-hearted bitch."

"I am," she agreed, "but I'll be gone soon enough, and you won't have to put up with me anymore."

Sirius's expression changed again at her words, that final, vicious twist of the blade. He then muttered something unintelligible under his breath before turning and striding out of the room.

"That was unwise," said Remus. "Not to mention cruel."

"I know." With Sirius gone, her detached, provoking manner disappeared as well, and she appeared peevish and unsettled. "Why doesn't he want to…?" She stopped and scowled. "If he's going to act like an idiot, he's going to be treated like one. And you certainly know as well as I do that he'll have his petty revenge."

* * *

And he did, Remus discovered. Or, rather, the whole Order discovered. 

Towards the end of the meeting, the kitchen door banged open. Most of them were on their feet with their wands in their hands before the door actually slammed back against the wall. The usually cheerful, lighthearted Zen looked to be in a ferocious temper and glared with contempt at the dozen or so wands pointed at her.

"Oh, for God's sake! You can't imagine you have any secrets from _me_," she said before addressing herself to Sirius, who was standing on the other side of the table. "One thing," she said in a bitter voice. "Only one thing ever I asked you to do." She flung a sack of rats onto the tabletop; two tumbled out. "Keep your damn rats out of sight."

Someone snickered; otherwise the room was silent. Sirius glared back at her. "Sorry, baby, I must've forgotten in the afterglow of our _passionate_ encounter in the sitting room." He picked up one of the rats and flipped it to her as if he expected her to catch it.

She did. She snatched it out of mid-air with one hand. For an instant, Remus admired the catch, for it reminded him of a Seeker catching a snitch. But it was only for an instant and a fleeting one at that.

Cocking her arm, she threw the dead rat at Sirius with all her strength, and it smashed him in the chest before falling to the floor. "You're such an asshole," she snarled, rubbing her hand against her robes as if to erase the feel of the rat. With a terrible expression of disgust on her face, she stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her so hard that several glasses bounced off the table and shattered on the floor.

"Your usual charm with women remains undiminished," Snape remarked in a deadpan voice.

Sirius spun to face him, but Professor McGonagall was standing between them. "That's quite enough," she said to both of them.

The meeting was called back to order, and things settled down, but Remus was grieved by what he had witnessed. He felt horribly disappointed for his friend, who was enamored of the lady. Despite their rapport, Zen didn't seem to have any real interest in Sirius as a man, and she had certainly carved him up neatly with cruelly accurate words.

It was too bad. Sirius fancied her a lot, and she seemed like the right kind of woman to help him. Still, she maintained a slight coolness, and Remus suspected that this relationship was a lop-sided one. In most love affairs, one side was more attached than the other, but in Sirius's case, where his very survival depended on a woman's affection, it was a dark tragedy.

There was no doubt in his mind that Zen's sarcastic remark about Sirius protecting her was a veiled reference to some tragic foolishness on his part. Remus knew Sirius; he also knew how overconfident he was sometimes. Had he assumed that his advances would be welcome? Had Zen been offended? They seemed to get along so well, but Remus could not imagine that a woman who truly cared for a man would ever say something so sadistic about a private matter. Perhaps it had just been too long since Sirius had had a woman in his life, so he had behaved like a barbarian.

* * *

Once everyone had gone, Sirius heaved a great sigh before starting to climb the stairs. He felt drained, exhausted, and he doubted that Zen would leave her door open tonight. She'd probably lock it. Typical woman! As if he couldn't Apparate right into her room if he wanted! Not that he wanted to fight anymore. He was tired of fighting with her. What he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and feel her heartbeats against him while they talked. It didn't matter what they talked about. 

The simple truth was that he liked talking with her. . It was nice to have someone to talk with, and what she said interested him. More than that, she listened to him. Really listened. Over the past few years, he had noticed that most people did not listen; they just waited for their turn to speak. Not everyone had all the time that he and Zen did, of course, and both of them sometimes were guilty of this. By and large, however, she listened to him with compassion and understanding, and he found himself doing the same and growing addicted to these conversations.

But tonight, solitude in his own bed would have to do. With a slow and tired step, he climbed the stairs. He'd look to see if her door was left open. It would be a miracle if it was! But he would check, just glance down the hall. Just in case.

As he drew closer to the first floor, he became aware of a low hum as well as a strange flickering light coming from the sitting room. His first instinctive thought was that he hoped that whatever annoying Black family ghost it was, it didn't disturb Zen's sleep. Then he hoped, with a leap of his heart, that it frightened her into coming to his room to crawl into bed with him for comfort and protection. A smile curved his lips as he imagined her, trembling and contrite, rubbing her soft body against him while wearing only the t-shirt that she slept in.

He stopped in the doorway of the sitting room. Zen was sitting curled against the cushions on the sofa watching the television. He was about to turn away when he heard her say, "Do you want to come sit down for a minute?"

He hesitated, and the sound of the television went off. She turned to look at him, and he could see that she was holding the little sensor device that controlled the set from a distance. "I don't want to fight," he said as he came into the room.

"Neither do I."

He sat down on the sofa not too close and not too far away.

"I said things that I didn't mean," she told him. "Things that aren't true. I said what I thought would hurt you, and… I think it worked." She sighed and shook her head. "And I'm sorry. I wish I could take it all back."

Her words both surprised and comforted him. Although he had told himself that she hadn't really meant what she had said, deep down, he feared that she had.

"Tonks told me, once I'd calmed down, that she checked very carefully before she brought in the Muggle devices," he admitted. "There _are_ things that can hurt you that you don't know about. I suppose I overreacted, but I was worried."

"I know."

"You do?" He looked at her in surprise.

"Of course I know."

He still didn't understand. How could she know?

"You wouldn't have gotten so angry unless you thought someone might get hurt."

Had she realized that? He nodded. "I'm sorry about the rats."

She grinned. "There are worse things than rats, but they were bad enough."

"Worse that rats?" he asked in confusion. "I thought that was your greatest fear."

"No, they're my irrational fear. The tails, that is." She looked at him with a smile, and she was warm, affectionate, and worn out. "No, you can't even imagine doing something worse."

"Tell me, then. What could have been worse?"

"No. I think we ought to just go to bed. I'm fried."

He couldn't help smiling. The suggestion sounded exquisite to him. "I'm pretty knackered myself." He heaved himself up and extended his hand to help her; he placed his arm lightly around her shoulders as they walked up the stairs.

How was this going to work? Should he go and change and return to her room? Or should he just go with her as he was and sleep in his clothes? What did she want him to do? Once they reached the second floor, he turned to look at her, wondering what would be his best move.

"Come back when you've changed," she instructed, half commanding and half pleading.

"I'll just clean my teeth and be down in a few minutes," he told her.

"Okay." She smiled. In the shadowy darkness, she looked very beautiful.

Upstairs, he washed up and changed into Muggle pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Then he went down to her room where she was waiting in bed with the candle still lit on the nightstand.

He felt awkward as he entered and she examined him in his pajamas. Although she just looked exhausted and pale, he felt unpleasantly self-conscious. This was the first time that he had climbed into bed with her before she had fallen asleep, and it was a strange, nervous feeling.

"_Nox_." In the dark, he set his wand down on the nightstand and settled himself beside her; she shifted quite willingly and laid her head against his shoulder. He lay holding her, both of them awake but not speaking. It was a nice, warm, comforting feeling after the earlier violent emotions.

Rain was beating against the windows, and the warmth of the bed seemed like an oasis in the cold night air. This woman was such a contradiction to him. So strong – he didn't doubt she could have taken his head off today if she had wanted – and yet so soft and comforting. Women had always been a mystery to him, and he liked this feeling, this dichotomy.

"I'm glad your television set works," he whispered.

She sighed very deeply and reached to kiss him upon the neck. "The TV is yours," she replied in a quiet voice as she returned to her original position. "To keep you entertained after I'm gone."

* * *

Author's Note: It seems as though Sirius's confusion with being depicted as a player has generated a lot of curiosity. However you interpret him, there's nothing in canon to support this characterization. I don't understand how it started except that maybe sometimes very good-looking people are automatically judged as being incapable of fidelity. Anyway, I'm listening to what everyone has to say!

* * *


	10. The Smashing of the Floodgates

Warnings: Adult themes, sexual situation**s**

* * *

******  
Chapter 10: The Smashing of the Floodgates**

No eureka moment occurred to Zen as her relationship with Sirius grew closer, but slow awareness crept upon her as the moments and days and weeks passed. One day in cold, damp April, the strange courtship made sense to her. It had been becoming clearer so slowly that she woke up one day, looked at the darling man sleeping beside her in the grey morning light, and _knew_.

Since he had been imprisoned at such a young age, Sirius had never learned how to have a relationship the way adults did. No wonder he only made out with her on the sofa – he was still a teenager emotionally. And as far as experience went, he didn't know how to behave like a lover to a woman.

Before coming to this realization, she had been trying very hard to stay still and let him enjoy his necking and petting because any move she made, any sound she made, had such a dramatic effect on him. As a result, she tried hard not to react at all so as not to influence him. Had that been a mistake?

Even worse, he was living in constant denial of her eventually leaving him and going home. He was operating under the illusion that they were going out, or _going steady_, in the horrible vernacular of the 1970s and earlier. Only once had she tried to talk about her imminent departure. Her attempt at broaching the subject had brought on such a surly fit of grouchiness and petulance on his part that she had decided to avoid the subject.

_Let him live in denial_, she thought with serene detachment. _ I don't have to worry about picking up the pieces because I won't be around._

On the other hand, all she could think was: _that poor, darling man_. He was reckless and immature, someone suffering from arrested adolescence, who had never developed into a grown man. And with his fate prescribed in millions of copies of hardcovers and paperbacks, he never would get that chance.

Dismissing these considerations and opting for action instead, she asked if they could open a nice bottle of wine with lunch, and he agreed. The truth was, he never refused her anything for which she asked, exactly what she was counting on for the afternoon. However, it was one of Sirius's occasional moody, grumpy days. Added to his low mood, he drank more than usual, and then, silent and maudlin, he sat looking at her with those great big, gorgeous, pale eyes.

For a few minutes, Zen thought about just scrapping her plan and trying it another day, but she knew she couldn't assume that she'd be here another day. So she stood up and went around the table to him. Surprise flickered in his eyes and dispelled the foul mood as she silently took his hand and drew him to his feet. He frowned at her in confusion but asked no questions, and Zen led him by the hand out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

No words or glances passed between them as they went up to his room. Somehow, though, as she led him up the flights of stairs, he went along silently and realized what she intended. She had chosen his room instead of hers because her bed was where they slept innocently together. That was sacrosanct, and nothing would interfere with it.

In his room, she led him over to his bed and turned to him without looking up at him or saying anything, for she didn't know what to say. Instead, she reached up and started to open the fastenings on his robes. Before she could get far, though, he grabbed her wrists.

Startled, she stopped and raised her eyes to his. The usual exquisite blue-grey was black. His eyes reflected his soul, and at that moment, he was tortured by memories, thoughts of all that he had missed during those lost years, deep lusts, dark passions, secret longings of which he dared not speak.

After a second, he let go of her wrists. "Anytime you want me to take my clothes off, you just tell me, baby." His voice was husky, unsteady. He opened his robes and shrugged them off his shoulders, letting them fall to the floor. He wore a heavy blue shirt underneath and black trousers. "Shall I keep going?"

Wide-eyed, hypnotized, she nodded.

While she watched, he pulled the shirt over his head. He looked at her and saw how she was staring, so he slowly kicked off his shoes, unfastened his trousers and slid them down and off, leaving him in only plaid flannel shorts in the dark colors of the Black Watch. "More?" He hooked his thumbs under the elastic waistband.

"In a minute," she told him with more breath than voice. He was a beautiful man! The months that he had been on the run had restored much of his muscle tone and had filled in the gauntness that Azkaban had wrought. Now, despite the tattoos, he was sinewy and dark with a mat of black chest hair that she wanted to feel against her skin…

"You look as long as you want," he told her, but with his voice so low and shaky, she was sure that he was feeling nervous and apprehensive.

Wanting both to be near him and to reassure him, she came closer and placed her hands on his arms above his elbows. A powerful shudder shook his whole body, and his eyes squeezed shut. She took her hands away quickly and wondered if she was asking too much of him.

"No." The word was almost a hiss and his eyes opened. He stared at her with a desperate, pleading look. "Don't stop."

Whatever she did, she was not going to make things worse. Reaching her hands up, she placed her fingertips very lightly on his arms again and looked at him with a question in her eyes.

This time, there was a shiver, and he swallowed hard. "Touch me."

She blinked. "Where?" she whispered, wanting so much to put him at ease.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." His voice was a tremulous whisper.

With a delicate caress, she slid her fingertips up to his shoulders and traced the tattoo at the top of his chest. The pulse in his neck was beating madly, and his breathing was unnaturally rapid. Her fingers ran down his chest through the thick, curling black hair. As usual, her impulses got the better of her and she leaned to rub her cheek against his chest hair.

Sirius gasped and his hands gripped her shoulders. When she looked up at him, his eyes were only half-open and filled with a terrible hunger that she recognized.

This slow torture couldn't go on. She had been stupid – _she_ should have undressed first! _Well, the next time I plan a seduction, I'll know_. As far as she could determine, the best thing would be to skip the foreplay. "Here." As she took a step over to the bed, his hands fell away from her shoulders; with one smooth motion, she pulled down the covers. "Sit down for a minute."

"Anything you say, baby."

It was her turn to feel nervous as she nudged off her shoes and socks with her heels and reached to unfasten her own robes. By then he was sitting on the edge of the bed; his eyes were open wide and staring at her with that dark, disturbing hunger.

Ignoring him as best she could, she shed her robes, shirt, and trousers as quickly as possible. Under them, she had on a plain bra and knickers. There was no time for modesty; still, she had to grit her teeth to quell her anxiety as she slipped the straps off her shoulders and unhooked the garment from behind. Then she wiggled her knickers down and off her hips so that Sirius could see all of her.

When she looked at him, he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open and his eyes moving over her body, and Zen felt acutely aware of her nakedness. She moved closer, and Sirius hesitated and looked at her as if for permission before raising his hands to her waist. His hands slid down over hips and back up to her waist.

Then he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face against her breasts. Zen held onto his shoulders as he nuzzled her soft flesh and made little feral sounds in his throat. "I don't think I can wait." he muttered in a gruff, hoarse voice without letting go of her.

"You don't have to," she gasped out as she tried to get used to the exquisite sensation of his stubbled, unshaven face grazing her nipples.

With surprising strength, swiftness, and gentleness, he lifted her and set her on her back on the bed, where he slithered on top of her, his mouth and hands exploring her body with the awkward, eager gentleness of a boy touching a girl for the first time.

She gasped and giggled and squirmed. "Mmmm, that feels nice."

It was at about this point that she generally made a man put on a condom. Months earlier, however, when he had first asked her to be his _girlfriend_, she had gained some practical advice from Calyxa on Wizard's contraception, so she was prepared.

He stopped long enough to slip off his shorts, and while he did, Zen flipped her hair over the pillows before welcoming him back with open arms. He was groaning and rubbing against her, his hands sliding all over her as she parted her legs for him. No doubt this was going to be over very soon, but right now, this was about him and not her.

Without warning, Sirius stopped and lay heavily atop her, panting, with his face buried against the pillow. After a moment, he raised himself and stared down at her with a look of powerful, desperate need in his eyes. Something seemed to be causing a struggle inside him, and she imagined that it was painful to have long-dead feelings reawakened.

"I don't think I can do this," he whispered, looked shaky and disoriented.

She nodded. Delicately, her hands came up and touched the sides of his face. "It doesn't matter," she murmured. "It's enough just to be with you."

He hesitated, and then he lowered his head to kiss her. Attempting to remain motionless, she lay there as his palm ran over her hip and belly down to her thigh and then between her legs where he could feel that she was wet for him. At his touch, she moaned softly against his kiss and squirmed a little.

He lifted his head, and she could see the absolute shock as well as the ferocious need that gripped him. "Gods," he growled.

She knew that he was not able to be gentle or sweet at this moment and that his self-control cost him an immense amount of effort. _Relax, Zen_, she told herself as she brushed her hands lightly down his chest_. You can take anything he gives you. He needs this. He needs you._

"You can see how much I want you," she told him.

"Yeah, but I can't…" He swallowed. He was shaking and again seemed to be seeking her permission. He stared at her with eyes so hungry and vulnerable that it was painful to behold.

"Let's just do it," she murmured in a low, sensual voice. "We'll have loads of time for fun later." She smiled and reached down to help him.

Finally allowing himself to surrender his tight self-control, he slid into her with a groan. For a second, he lay still, gasping and overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. And then, with a long, strangled cry like a howl that seemed ripped from him against his will, he began to hump involuntarily.

Zen tried to move with him, to help him; she stroked his shoulders and back. There was no pain, but there was little pleasure for her in this rough, hard mating. Instead, she felt slight discomfort, but she easily endured and knew she would never speak of it to him or anyone else. All the truth that he needed to know was that it was over too fast for her to enjoy it but that it was lovely being with him in such an intimate, physical way.

That didn't matter at all: he was weeping, sobbing as he gasped out sharp, keening cries of grief and wild release. His tears dripped onto her, ran down the side of her face and neck; she kissed his jaw and ear and whispered, "Sweetie, sweetie," in a feeble attempt at comfort. There was nothing else she could do.

Ragged, gasping breaths shook him, and after a scant few minutes, he shuddered and spent within her. Lying atop her, his sobs racked his whole body, wrenched the grief from his tortured soul. Emptied physically and mentally, held by the arms of his lady, overwhelmed by the smashing of the floodgates as everything good and bad came rushing out, Sirius sobbed against her.

"Honey, sweetie," she soothed, holding him tenderly, pressing kisses against his head and shoulder as he cried. Her eyes flooded with tears of compassion, and she knew that she had done the right thing.

Eventually, his sobs subsided and his breathing slowed. He was heavy on top of her, but she didn't mind. Slowly, she ran her hands down his back, stroking and petting him and giving him time to recover from the violent release that had been so draining and traumatic.

After a while, the cold air began to encroach. Zen tried to reach the duvet with her feet, but she could not. He was too big and too heavy and pinned her down almost completely. By now, he was breathing normally, so Zen very gently pushed him off of her. "Come on, sweetie, turn on your side," she coaxed, helping him to pull out and roll off of her.

With his eyes closed, he tried to wipe his runny nose with his weak, slow hand, but it didn't seem to work quite right. They were both of them wet with tears and semen and snot; Zen pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead. "I'll be right back," she assured him.

Naked and shivering, she hurried to the bathroom. Poor Sirius! She hadn't been prepared for anything like _this_. What she really wanted was a shower, but after the violence of his experience, she dared not leave him alone, helpless and shivering in the cold. Quickly, she cleaned herself off with a warm, wet cloth and then brought another back to his room along with a bath towel.

When she returned, she spread the towel on the bed to cover wet spots. Sirius's eyes were red and swollen, but he opened them and looked at her with what seemed to be dazed affection as she began to clean his face. He didn't speak – she was fairly sure that he _couldn't_ speak – but his lips moved as if he wanted to say something. No sound came.

"Shhh, don't try to talk," she soothed, smoothing back his hair and kissing him softly upon the temple and then the lips. "You don't need to say anything. Plenty of time to talk later."

When she had finished cleaning him up, she tossed the cloth on the floor. _Let Kreacher take care of that_, she thought, and then she pulled the duvet up over them and lay alongside him. Cradling him in her arms, she kissed him very softly on the cheek and lips before settling down.

"Baby," he mumbled and then said something inaudible, shifting nearly lifeless arms around her before he slowly relaxed and weariness overtook him.

Zen gently stroked his hair. She would have never thought or suspected that an act of love could have been so tremendously dramatic. She shouldn't have waited so long! She should have taken him to bed two months ago. Of course, two months ago, she hadn't thought they'd be together for two months. Anyway, a few months probably didn't make much of a difference after all the years he had been celibate. Not only celibate, though. Alone, bereft, isolated, and imprisoned.

_But what happens now?_

She had no illusions that he would now be suddenly free of the darkness that haunted him. No, he would need a lot more to heal his scars, and she was quite skeptical that he'd ever be completely free from his demons, even if he had many years ahead of him. Which he didn't, she recalled, as tears sprang into her eyes. But something huge and painful inside him had broken free, and that was a start. It was April, now, and the time was very short. But there was a chance that this darling, damaged man could find a little happiness in the short time that he had left.

* * *

Acknowledgements: Many thanks to the two brave people who shared their painful recollections with me in the hope of making this a bit more realistic. You know who you are. 

Author's Note: To those people whom I promised a link on the old discussion of Sirius's character after _Order of the Phoenix_ came out, here is the link with dots, slashes, and equals signs filled in by capital letters (_hopes it works_):

www DOT sugarquill DOT net SLASH forum SLASH index DOT php?showtopic EQUALS 2001


	11. Tell Your Sirius

Warning: Sexual situations, adult themes, language**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Tell Your Sirius **

The fire in the sitting room's hearth dispelled much of the damp April gloom, but Zen didn't really notice. With her book lying forgotten in her lap, she gazed into the flames and let her thoughts wander.

There was no way to tell when she would be able to return home. It was possible that Dumbledore would arrive any minute and give her that smarmy smile that she hated and say that she could go right now. Or else, it could be another whole month altogether; she just didn't know. Not that she hadn't tried to get something out of the old wizard by prying, wheedling, cajoling, or lambasting. Just a little hint of when she should be ready. Of course, he told her nothing, the annoying old geezer.

She suspected that he had some ulterior motive in keeping her there longer, and it was probably because she kept Sirius company while he was cooped up. Knowing what was going to happen when they didn't made it all that much harder for her: she knew that Sirius didn't have much longer to be cooped up, and she didn't mind living here with him in the time that he had left. However, when the time came for her to go, he wouldn't have long to miss her; _she_ would be the one grieving over his loss. She only hoped that she didn't have to stay here afterwards. She wouldn't be able to endure that kind of torture. She _had to_ go home before June.

The sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted her thoughts. Sirius hesitated just inside the doorway, showered and freshly-dressed. If they had not made violent love just a few hours before, she would never have guessed that he was the same man who had bawled in her arms like a baby. And yet, his visible awkwardness and uncertainty told her exactly what she needed to know: go gently.

"Hey, sweetie," she murmured with the warmest smile she could muster. "How're you feeling?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just fine." He came a few steps closer, still hesitating.

This eager, earnest discomfort tore at her heart. "Come and sit down for a few minutes. I don't think dinner will be ready for a while."

He came around the sofa and sat near her, eyes bright and questioning. Zen closed her book and reached to take hold of his hand, causing him to exhale audibly and grasp her hand. "How… how badly did I hurt you?"

She looked surprised. "No. You didn't hurt me. _You_ were the one in pain."

His expression was confused, dubious.

She smiled a little. "Although you'll have to slow down next time. I require a slow hand and a lot more patience."

"Next time," he echoed, gazing at her in surprise. "When will that be?"

She laughed. "Not until tomorrow, I guess. I think we'll both need some time to recover."

An astonished smile spread across his face. "Yeah."

Zen shifted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. He moved to accommodate her and closed his arms around her very gently. "I thought…." he began in a choked, difficult voice. "I thought I shouldn't have lost control. I thought I might have hurt you."

She drew back and looked into his eyes. "No. I would have told you to stop if there was any pain."

He frowned. They both knew that he would not have been able to stop no matter what she had said or what he had wanted.

"But I didn't have to," she added, settling against him again with a happy sigh.

* * *

When she had finished breakfast, Zen sat sipping coffee and writing down the previous day's observations, of which there were a lot. Sirius came into the kitchen a bit earlier than usual, which surprised her since it had been difficult for him to fall asleep. 

"Morning," she said, glancing at him with a smile. Then she paid closer attention to him. He was exceptionally well-groomed this morning, clean-shaven with neatly combed hair and robes fastened up to the collar. He looked at her with an expectant smile, and she smiled back before turning her attention to pouring a mug of coffee from the cafetière.

What was he thinking? Did he really think that they were going to spend all night in her bed and all day in his? She had told him that _next time_ would be today. He probably expected them to finish their breakfast coffee and then hurry up to his room. It was a notion she was going to have to disabuse him of with gentleness.

Pretending not to notice anything unusual, she continued to write and drink her coffee as she always did in the mornings. He was watching her, she knew, but she ignored him and continued with her normal breakfast.

When she stretched and started to get up, he leapt to his feet and stood smiling at her with a nervous, hopeful, expectant expression that touched her heart.

"I need to get some work done this morning," she told him as she set her plate and mug in the sink.

A look of disappointment clouded his features. "Do you have to?"

She felt like laughing and weeping at the same time. "Yeah, but just until lunch time," she assured him. "So you can use that time to decide how you're going to seduce me."

"_Seduce_ you?" he repeated with a laugh.

"Well, can we plan to have our romantic rendezvous after lunch?" she asked him. "We can dine, and then you can take me up to your room and – well, you did what I wanted yesterday, so today, _I_'ll do what _you_ want."

From his startled expression, she knew that he wasn't sure whether to believe her or not, so she took a few steps over to him and kissed him on the mouth.

"So, you have the morning to plan and decide." She let go and stepped back. "After lunch.

* * *

Sirius opened a bottle of crisp, very dry champagne to drink with the chicken Caesar salad they ate for lunch. Excited and happy, Zen flirted with him over the meal, and when they were finished, he gazed at her quite directly. "Are you ready to come upstairs with me now?" 

She nodded, smiling. He certainly got right to the point of the matter! But, still, what a euphemism to use - _come upstairs with me_. She had never heard it before, but it was probably unique to their situation where each floor in the house represented something different.

He got up and came around to her side of the table, so she stood up as well. "Are you sure you're ready?" he asked with uncertainty in his eyes. "Because whatever happened yesterday doesn't mean you have to come with me today."

This approach surprised her, but she imagined that having the morning to think and plan had been a good thing. How sweet and gentlemanly of him! Her heart softened even more towards him. "I want to go with you," she said, feeling rather excited. "But, there is one thing."

"Anything you want."

"Can you put some kind of chilling spell on the champagne? And bring it with us?"

"Is that all?" he laughed. "I think I can manage it," he said with a grin as he took out his wand.

He led her by the hand, the same as she had done the previous day. The tray bearing chilled champagne bottle and glasses followed them to his room and settled by itself on the nightstand.

For a minute, he stood looking at her, and she thought he might be a little uncertain about how to get things started, but that idea was short-lived. He came over and eased her into his arms before kissing her. As she was relaxing into the warmth and sensation, she didn't even feel his hands unfastening her robes before they were off. Somehow, he was using magic to undress her, not that she cared to complain.

His tongue slipped into her mouth as her clothes continued to fall away, and she felt his hands on her bare flesh. Her legs almost gave way, but he was holding her firmly around the waist and brought her to settle her against the pillows on his bed. Grinning and devilish, he handed her the crystal champagne flute. "Can't have you swooning beforehand," he teased.

She took a sip, feeling uncomfortable as he looked at her sitting there naked. His eyes were on her, and she had to fight the urge to cover up. _Let him look. Enjoy it_, she told herself, leaning back against the pillows to display her body for his eyes. She could see that he had that hungry, predator-look that men often got, and knowing that she inspired it excited her.

Without taking his eyes off of her, he took a gulp of champagne, put the glass down, and then stood up to undress, He discarded his own clothes while she watched and made a great show of it. "You like to watch me take off my clothes, don't you, baby?"

"Not exactly. It's not the taking off that does it. It's the looking at you that I like."

He grinned in pleasure and pride and made no effort to disguise that he was almost completely and impressively aroused, but Zen focused on something else. When he sat down beside her, she couldn't help putting her hand upon his bare chest to pet the thick hair. "I love this black fur of yours," she murmured.

He had stopped breathing and looked at her with heavy, drugged eyes. "I hate to ask you to stop…"

She stopped immediately and drew her hand away.

"Sorry," he sighed as his hand slipped over her stomach to her waist. "Any other day, you can do that for hours if you want." He leaned over her. "I may even beg for more! But today, I want to hear you scream my name."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," she murmured as he caressed her hip and thigh.

"You're not leaving this room until I make you come – hard," he growled in her ear

Zen took in a gasp of breath. If he kept talking like this, it was going to be easy! "It's been a while, so it might be over fast."

"You take whatever the time you need and don't worry about me," he told her as his hand slipped lower. "Just tell me what you like."

She drew in a ragged breath. "I – I like to hear dirty talk," she managed,

"You want me to tell you I'm going to fuck you until you scream," he murmured as his fingers teased her.

A breathless whimper escaped her lips. "Yes," she breathed, clawing at the sheets.

"Oh, baby, you and I are going to have lots of fun," he told her as he grasped her right hand and pulled it down to place it over his. "Now you show me what you like, slow or fast."

She knew what he wanted, so she guided his hand with hers to stroke her sensitive flesh. Once he had established the right rhythm and intensity, she found herself making little sounds of pleasure in her throat.

"You like that?" he breathed hot against her ear. "Want me to put my finger inside you?"

She gasped and her hand fell away from his. Now, she was pushing herself up against his hand. "Yes, please," she begged.

"You're going to come when I tell you to." He slid one finger inside her. "You want to come for your Sirius, don't you, baby?"

"Yes, yes," she managed. "Please… make me come…"

He shifted and lowered his head so that he could suck on her nipples. He nibbled on one and then moved his mouth to the other as her breath caught in her throat.

It was hard to remember where she was. Everything that he was doing was so right, and she concentrated on making it happen. Just a _little_ bit more, she knew.

"Now," she managed to gasp. "Do it now. Please…"

It was all the encouragement he needed. In just a minute, he was on top of her, and she tried to hook her knees over his shoulders, but he was too tall. It didn't matter, though. The tension exploded, and she cried out. She might have been saying his name, but she didn't really have the ability to think coherently. His mouth was against her ear again, as she convulsed and came. "That's a good girl," he told her in a rough, guttural voice. "You come for your Sirius when he wants you to."

She called his name again and again as he drove into her. This was not rough or hard like the uncontrolled frenzy of the previous day, but it was just fast enough, just hard enough to push her to another dizzying peak.

"You love your Sirius, don't you?" he asked breathlessly as he made love to her. "Tell your Sirius that you love him."

"Yes – oh, God," she cried. "I love you…"

"Tell me again – look at me and say it. Say my name"

In this state, it took a second for her eyes to focus. He was flushed and clear eyed and – desperate. None of which mattered. In the throes of ecstasy, she looked into his eyes. "Sirius," she gasped, "I love you."

"And I love you, baby." He kissed her, then, all open mouths, tongues, and gasping breaths.

Some loud noise distracted Zen. At the same instant, Sirius grabbed his wand from the nightstand. "_Protego_!" he shouted as he shielded her with his body.

Even in her current state, Zen was impressed by the lightning fast way that he reacted. Before she could even turn her head! And then she wished she hadn't, for Tonks had burst into the room with her wand in her hand, and she looked shocked. Even worse, behind her was Mrs. Weasley!

"We heard someone screaming," the young witch stammered.

"Tonks, you dumb – !" A jet of silvery-blue light from his wand knocked her out into the hall and slammed the door while Tonks yelped.

It had all happened so fast that it took a few seconds for the reality to sink in for Zen. Sirius tossed his wand down on the nightstand again with a muttered curse, and she gently stroked his shoulders and chest. "Are you all right?" she asked, fighting the impulse to laugh.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." He settled down beside her and pulled the duvet up to cover them. "Should've used a silencing charm." He gathered her up and held her against him. "Are _you_ all right?"

"Fine," she replied, nestling happily against him. "Talk about _coitus interruptus_," she said and then began to laugh.

"I'm really sorry," he said again and then chuckled himself. She was laughing uncontrollably and tears of mirth seeped from her eyes. "I think Tonks'll be scarred for life. Did you see the expression on her face?" he added, which made her laugh even harder. "And Molly disapproves of both of us anyway. Now, caught in _flagrante delicto_… "

"Stop, stop," she begged, laughing almost uncontrollably. "I can't breathe!"

He chuckled again and didn't say anything else. As she calmed down and the laughter subsided, one of his hands began to slide over her bare skin under the duvet. "One good thing," he remarked as he began to kiss her. 'They won't bother us again for hours…"

* * *

Author's notes: I am changing the rating of the story to _M_ just for the sake of this chapter (and probably the previous one). It's one of the problems of working without a beta-reader: I'm always uncertain of what kind of rating to use. Anyway, if anyone reading thinks I shouldn't change it, please let me know. 

The fun chapters are over, and now I have to finish writing the difficult ones! I need to finish this off and get back to my real work.  
For anyone wondering, my _Biological Waste Treatment_ course has been canceled. I'm distraught!


	12. A Pain in the Neck

**Chapter 12: A Pain in the Neck**

When Contessa Calyxa di Janarra arrived at headquarters, Zen was working on some mathematical problems, so Sirius was able to sit down with her in private and discuss the owl that surprised her.

**I would like to ask for your help in picking out  
a present for a lady. If you have time any morning  
this week, we could speak privately.  
Sirius**

_A present for a lady_ she understood well enough. The poor man was trapped in the house! He needed someone to make the purchase for him, and he probably wanted a woman's advice. By his emphasizing the private nature of this business, she supposed that he did not want Remus or any of the others to know. Fair enough. Perhaps he was looking for a ring.

Remus had told her about the vicious quarrel, which worried him because he thought it signaled an insurmountable problem in the relationship between Sirius and his lady. Although she said nothing to him, Calyxa thought such an exchange bespoke much of the hot passions simmering without an outlet. Therefore, it had come as no surprise when Tonks had confided in her about a mortifying _faux pas_ she had committed by rushing into Sirius's room while he and Zen were enjoying an apparently shattering afternoon in bed.

"I honestly thought that someone was torturing them with the _Cruciatus_." Tonks had been so earnest and woebegone that Calyxa had needed to school herself not to smile. "Molly was worried as well, so it wasn't just me."

"Sirius was angry?" Calyxa had asked, but she doubted it. If the couple had been making that much noise, they must have been in bliss for hours afterwards!

"What do you think?" Tonks had sighed. "He was none too happy – blasted me right out into the hall. But later, I think he was amused. He looks even better with his clothes off than he does with them on, and I think he knows it. Conceited git. Anyway, Zen talked to us, to Molly and me. She said that what happens between her and Sirius is private and that she hoped we weren't going to talk about it with anyone. That Molly shouldn't even tell Arthur."

To Calyxa, who had always been taught to never gossip about other people's love affairs, such a request seemed unnecessary; however, she had discovered at a young age that not many people subscribed to such a belief. "Since she is compelled to live with him in such a public way, her request is understandable."

"Yeah," Tonks had sighed. "I don't blame her at all."

Now, faced with a very sober and businesslike Sirius, Calyxa pushed away these thoughts and concentrated on what he was saying, and on what he was _not_ saying.

"I want to get Zen a necklace." His anxiety was observable in the way he frowned and in the tension of his voice. "Something pretty and elegant. I was thinking something with rubies or sapphires."

"Either will suit her," Calyxa assured him, "although, at this stage, she might prefer something a bit more… meaningful."

By the way he considered it, she could see that he understood that she meant an engagement ring. "I don't think I'm quite as smooth an operator as you give me credit for."

She smiled and patted his arm. "Darling, you must forgive my interference. I am a terrible busybody. Now, you must decide what you would prefer to see her in: rubies or sapphires? Do you like to see her in red or blue?"

"Sapphires," he decided, "like my blue robes. The striped ones she used to wear during the winter." He smiled a little as he remembered, and Calyxa thought that he must miss seeing her like that. "Anyway, I hoped that you'd help me out. I know you could pick something pretty, something she'd like. Something simple."

"I shall be delighted to help, and I am honored that you thought of me." She smiled at him. "Although I suspect that she would adore anything that you gave her."

* * *

About a week later, Calyxa returned with the box and showed Sirius an exquisite necklace of delicate platinum links set with large, deep blue sapphires. "Because your lady does not ever wear gold," she explained. He hadn't even noticed that! 

Calyxa was kind enough to tie a ribbon around the box in an ornate bow that fluttered like a butterfly. She was skilled at that kind of pretty magic, and he had never had much use for it before now. After she had gone, he hid the box behind some books on a shelf in the sitting room and waited until he and Zen were ensconced on the sofa after dinner to draw it from its hiding place.

"I've got a little present," he told her casually. "You don't have one, and… well, I thought you might like it." He thrust the jeweler's box into her hands.

Zen frowned at the box and then looked at him with wide eyes. "You don't have to give me anything."

"I know I don't have to," he told her with a laugh. "I want to."

She nodded a little, but she still looked uncertain as she untied the fluttering bow and opened the box. For a full two seconds, she stared down at the sapphire necklace without speaking.

"Calyxa went to buy it, but I picked it out," he explained. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful." She seemed to be staring at it in disbelief.

He felt a sudden fear grip his heart. She didn't like it! "Calyxa said you didn't wear gold, so I had it made in platinum. I couldn't decide if you'd like rubies better. We can get it changed if you want to."

"No. No. This is perfect." She still wasn't looking at him, and the sudden thought that she was trying to think of something to say to conceal the truth and protect his feelings twisted his insides. "You shouldn't have spent so much money."

It was not the modest demurral of a well-pleased lady. Maybe she would have preferred a ring. It was what Calyxa had hinted, but he had thought it was too soon, that Zen would never accept it. "I'll send it back," he declared, "and get something else. A ring?"

She was shaking her head, still not looking at him.

She really didn't want it. He knew her beliefs on waste and consumption. For Merlin's sake, he _agreed _with her! But he had just thought she'd like something pretty from him. Then it occurred to him that she just didn't want something from _him_. She didn't want to accept an expensive gift because she didn't feel that way about him. Of course, he made her tell him that she loved him during intense private moments, but there had also been times where she had made him beg for release. He knew very well that he would have said _anything _at such a moment. He had just thought that even if she didn't really love him, she at least _liked_ him a lot…

"Take it, then." He strove to speak in a normal voice even though his heart was breaking. "You can sell it when you get home. Use the money for something useful."

That got her to look at him, but it was as if he had stabbed her in the heart, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Hey… it's not such a big deal," he said. _That_ had been a mistake. "I'll send it back and get something else. I wasn't sure if you'd like this. I've only seen you wear earrings. Maybe… maybe you'd rather have a ring from me?" he added hopefully.

She was crying and wiping her eyes with her hands. Seeing her this way frightened Sirius because he had either done something terribly wrong or assumed something about her feelings that really wasn't true. Whatever it was, he had to know the truth.

"Baby," he said gently, "tell me what's wrong. You're not the kind of woman who lies to a man and misleads him. You're honest. Tell me if you don't feel the same way, if you don't want something like this… from me."

"No, it's nothing like that." She took out some tissues and blew her nose. "The truth is that I can't wear it."

"Why not?" he asked as gently as possible.

She took another tissue to mop her eyes. "I have a neck injury, and so I can't wear any necklaces. Or scarves, or turtleneck sweaters, or anything with a high collar in back. I can't wear anything on my neck."

"A neck injury?" How could he not have noticed?

"Yeah, Anything on my neck makes me sick. Headaches and nausea, like a migraine."

"That's it?" He was cautiously optimistic. "So, it's not because it's from me?"

"No, of course not," she sniffed.

"Okay, then. I'll send it back and get a bracelet and earrings made."

Fresh tears trickled from her eyes. "Did you really think I didn't want something from you?" She mopped her eyes again.

"I wasn't sure," he admitted.

"Sweetie," she murmured, and, as always, his heart and mind turned to mush when she spoke her usual endearment. "You know I love you. You make me tell you every day!"

The world seemed to stop for Sirius and he pulled her close, into his arms. Although he didn't say it, he thought that it didn't count when he made her tell him things during passionate moments.

As she snuggled against him, he took the necklace out of the box and wrapped it around one of her wrists. "There. Taken care of."

She giggled a little and pressed a kiss on his collarbone. Merlin, how he love when she kissed him! It didn't matter where.

Now that he didn't have to look at her, he felt able to speak honestly. "I thought about maybe buying a ring," he said in a mad attempt at sounding as if he didn't really care one way or the other. "But I was fairly sure you wouldn't accept it."

She heaved a great sigh. "Another time, another place, I would. But the time is coming when I have to leave. This is all the time we're ever going to have."

He sighed as well. "I don't want you to go."

"I have to."

"Why?" He was striving to sound reasonable. "Do you want to?"

"There's no place for me in this world. You know I don't belong here."

"I know," he said immediately.

"It's the _here_ that doesn't work," she explained, sitting up to look at him. "Not the _with you_."

"Would you stay with me?" he pressed. "If you could, I mean?"

She hesitated. "I can't stay here no matter how I feel. I won't deal in _if_s."

This might be the only chance he was going to get, so he drew upon his courage. "The simplest thing I can say is this: I want you to stay with me as long as you can. Even if I didn't have the whole Ministry after me, I'd want you to stay here, to go with me wherever I went."

Zen frowned at him and searched for words. "There's no place for me in this world," she finally replied.

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "Not a witch, not a Muggle, not a Squib. You're an anomaly here."

"I _can't_ stay," she told him. "I _have to_ go back where I belong."

He nodded and looked away. "I know that, as well," he said. "But will you stay? As long as you can?"

"Every day I stay will make it harder when I finally do leave."

He looked at her again, knowing that she meant harder for her, not him. "I know," he said yet again.

"I'll stay as long as I can," she said.

"That's all I need to hear." He smiled a little, sadly. "You're very brave."

"No," she laughed, "you're brave. I'm strong, but I'm a coward. You're the brave one."

The praise pleased him, but only a little.


	13. The Painful Truth

**Chapter 13: The Painful Truth**

So as not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black, Calyxa let herself into the house quietly. It was a bit past the usual dinner hour, so she imagined that Sirius and Zen were up in the drawing room or sitting room. With the new box from the jeweler in her hand, she ascended the steps and opened the door to the sitting room.

Sirius was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed, an open book held against his knee with one hand, and Zen's fingers buried in his hair. Zen was lying on her side on the sofa, smiling, her hand gentling Sirius's silky hair.

"I just don't want to have to learn _another_ language," the woman was saying to him in a soft, amused voice. "Maybe Hawaii. They speak English there, and it's part of the U.S." In her dark pink spring robes, Zen looked very pretty and comfortable.

"Hawaii," he replied without opening his eyes, and Calyxa thought he looked about as content as she had ever seen him. "I suppose that means you'd be running around in a bikini all day long, with a grass skirt and maybe some flowers in your hair."

"A bikini!" laughed Zen. "All day long?"

"Or maybe one of those big garlands of flowers the girls wear," he went on. "Just that and a grass skirt. That'd cover you up well enough."

Zen let out an amused chuckle. "You mean a _lei_, I think. That would be convenient easy access for someone like you," she accused with affectionate humor. "But I think it'd be pretty distracting for the poor guys working on a hazardous waste site or a landfill."

"I'm sure they'd be in favor of _that_ kind of distraction," Sirius countered in a reasonable tone.

Although she hated to interrupt, Calyxa called, "Good evening," and entered the room.

Zen looked up with a warm smile. "Hey, you," she greeted; Sirius opened his eyes and sat up. "Calyxa! What a nice surprise."

"I have only come to give you this," she said, holding out the box to Sirius.

"Oh, great," he said, taking it and then passing it to Zen. "I'm sure that'll get this one to smile. Or maybe cry. Sometimes I can't tell the difference."

Zen rolled her eyes at him before opening the box. Inside were the reset sapphires in a plain platinum bracelet and delicate dangling earrings. "Oh!"

"I think that's about the highest compliment we're going to get," quipped Sirius with a mischievous grin, but Zen embraced him and pressed a kiss against the side of his face. Calyxa saw the dramatic way that Sirius's expression softened, and then he twisted towards her for a proper kiss.

Feeling rather like an intruder, Calyxa turned away to leave, smiling to herself at how charming and attractive a couple they were. at how completely Sirius had fallen in love..

"Wait – Calyxa."

She turned back, wondering what Sirius had to say. He was struggling to get up as Zen laughed. "Can you wait a few minutes?" he asked. "I need to go up and groom Buckbeak, and I thought you could stay and keep Zen company. I'm sure she's in dire need of some woman-talk."

"_That_'s for sure," Zen chuckled as she rose from the sofa.

"I should be delighted," Calyxa remarked.

"Go ahead," Zen told Sirius. "I'll get her a drink."

"Okay. I'll be right back," he said as headed for the door. "When I come back, I want to see how nice it looks on."

Zen went over to the sideboard. "How about some yummy red wine? It's a cabernet-syrah blend."

"That sounds lovely." Calyxa chose an armchair and sat. "Those fuchsia robes suit you well."

"Thanks." Zen poured the glass and brought it over. "Won't exactly go with the sapphires, though!"

"I doubt Sirius will notice whether or not they go with the fuchsia." Calyxa took a sip. As promised, the wine was dry, rich, and excellent.

Zen sat on the sofa and began to put on the earrings. "I do have something to ask you."

"To ask _me_?" Calyxa repeated in surprise. "Certainly."

"What's the possibility of me meeting Prince Borodin?"

"Borodin?" The request startled Calyxa. How strange for a woman in love to request to meet someone like him! "Do you know him?"

"We've never met, but I know all about him."

"I think I can arrange it, but will Sirius mind? Will he feel jealous?"

"Jealous?" Zen stopped putting in the second earring and looked at her in surprise. "Why would he be jealous?"

"Borodin is a very handsome, charming wizard," Calyxa explained. "Sirius might not understand your wanting to meet him."

Zen chuckled. "That's _his_ problem!"

Calyxa couldn't help smiling with her. "Very well. If Professor Dumbledore agrees, then I shall arrange a meeting at Borodin's earliest convenience."

A funny little smile played upon Zen's lips as she attempted to fasten the bracelet to her left wrist using only her right hand. "Why don't we just do it without Dumbledore knowing? What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

Calyxa laughed again. It was no secret why Sirius was captivated with this woman! "You know, Professor Dumbledore brought many authors from your world to meet Sirius, but I believe you are the only one to question his judgment."

At first, Zen didn't reply, so Calyxa glanced at her. "Many authors," Zen repeated slowly, looking thoughtful. "Do you remember when you told me there had been twenty?"

"Yes, the evening I came to help you plan for the date."

"Yeah," said Zen slowly, considering it. "And all those authors… they came here to meet Sirius. Dumbledore brought them here to see if Sirius would like them. To help him find what he so charmingly refers to as a _girlfriend_."

Calyxa smiled at her sarcastic tone. "He is terribly fond of that word! Yes, they were all brought here, the same as you were, but I think you were the only one that he liked. Of course, many of them did not like him either."

Zen was nodding slowly. "He didn't have any success with the others. But he got what he wanted from me."

"What a thing to say!" Calyxa sighed. "As mercenary as it may have seemed at first, you must know that he loves you dearly."

Without another word, Zen stood up. "Just going to the loo," she announced.

Something was wrong. Zen's face was ghastly white as she hurried from the room, Calyxa opened her empathic senses; hardly believing what she felt, she stood up and went out into the hall. The door to the toilet was closed, but she could hear the unmistakable sound of someone retching on the other side.

With her wineglass still clutched in her hand, Calyxa Apparated upstairs to the room where Sirius kept his hippogriff. "Forgive me for interrupting," she said, bowing formally to the big, temperamental creature.

"Hey!" Sirius didn't pause in his grooming. "We don't get many visitors up here. Where's Zen? Did you make her walk all the way up"

"Tell me, have you told Zen all the truth?" she began breathlessly, feeling terribly worried and responsible. "Everything? All about why she was brought here?"

That was all she needed to say. He stopped what he was doing and stared at her, for he knew that something monumental must have happened to fluster and disturb her this way. "Calyxa," he began in a soft voice. "What have you done?"

She could feel all the blood draining from her face. "_Four months_ and you still have not told her the truth?"

He tossed the hippogriff brush onto a nearby table. In his eyes and the expression on his face, she recognized something she hadn't seen before: fear. "Tell me what you've done."

"I mentioned that you did not like any of the other ladies whom Professor Dumbledore brought here to meet you," she told him. "She seemed to have not known that she was brought here for you."

"She didn't know," he admitted.

"Well, the knowledge does not seem to please her," Calyxa went on. "She is, I believe, rather upset."

"What the hell does that mean, _rather upset_?" He sounded angry, but that was covering up a terrible, gnawing fear.

"She became physically ill."

He muttered a foul word and Disapparated. Buckbeak snorted and gave Calyxa a baleful look. Not knowing what to do, she decided to walk down instead.

By the time she reached them, a pasty, pale Zen was holding onto the doorway and staring at Sirius. "Dumbledore brought me here purposely and lied about it," she said in a weak, shaky voice, "to see if you'd like me. Like a weird blind date. Me and twenty others before me."

Sirius looked wary and cautious. "I can't vouch for the number, but it sounds about right."

Zen bit her lip. "Did you know about it? What he was doing?" Her voice was soft and almost as if she were begging Sirius to say he hadn't known.

"Yes," said Sirius in a low voice. "I knew about the whole thing. I was desperate enough to agree to it."

She stared at him in shock. "So you were in on it, too?" she nearly whispered.

"I was," he admitted, not flinching from meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry to have kept it from you. I should have told you months ago."

Zen stood still and stared at him as the slow horror of comprehension really sank in. To Calyxa, the expression on her face was of one who had been expecting the comforting embrace of a trusted lover and had instead had a sharp blade driven between her ribs into her heart.

"Well, you certainly had me fooled," she finally managed to say.

"_Fooled_?" Sirius repeated, aghast

"I never suspected a thing," she continued, looking at him with the raw wound of betrayal apparent in her eyes. "You're very good at this. Well, you've had your wicked way with me all this month. Maybe the next woman won't be such a sucker for a pretty face."

He could hardly do more than stare at her with his mouth open as she brushed past him towards the stairs. "You don't think that I was… that I wasn't…"

Zen passed Calyxa, who made no move to speak to her or stop her. The poor thing was suffering excruciating pain that hurt Calyxa as well until she clamped down hard on her empathic senses.

"Zen, wait," Sirius called, going after her. "You don't understand. That's not what happened. Baby, please." She closed the door before he could say anything else. "That could have gone better," he muttered, running his hands through his hair.

"Forgive me," said Calyxa. "I had thought you must have told her by now."

"It's my own stupid fault," he sighed as he continued towards the door to Zen's room. "Zen?" he called, knocking. "Baby, please. Let me explain."

There was no reply.

Sirius waited a minute before knocking again. "Baby, can I come in?" he called.

"Perhaps I should talk to her," Calyxa suggested. "She is unlikely to hear anything you say, as upset as she is."

Without replying, Sirius opened the door, which was not locked. He froze in the doorway with his hand still on the door handle. "What are you doing?" he asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Filled with several horrible images of pain and death, Calyxa rushed to the door and peered past him. Poor Zen was sobbing, tears were coursing down her face. Every few seconds, she wiped them with some paper tissues. In the meantime, she was placing several items from the drawers into a black bag.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, and his voice was shaking badly.

Zen ignored him and continued to shove her things into her bag. It wasn't going to take long: she had little to pack.

Calyxa forced herself to take a deep, calming breath and to concentrate on what she could do. This explosive situation had the possibility in ending in terrible tragedy if Sirius lost his head and did something foolish, which was quite likely given the current state of affairs. She was fairly certain she could soothe and reason with Zen, but dealing with Sirius was another matter. If only Remus were here! If only _anyone_ were here to help.

"Let me talk to her," she said to Sirius as if giving him an order. "You cannot do any good here. Do you have any good brandy in the house? Or cognac?"

"Brandy?" He stared at her with wide eyes, and she could see he was on the verge of panic. There was no telling what he would do if Zen attempted to leave the house.

"Sirius, listen to me. I am going to speak to Zen alone. Women-talk, as you said. Go and pour us two glasses of good brandy and bring them here. Then leave us alone."

He glared at her and then glanced at Zen with an awful expression of fear and grief.

"There is no time to delay," Calyxa insisted, trying to give him a little shove. "Go now. Do what I have said."

He hesitated another second before going off. Calyxa closed the door and went over to Zen, who was nearly finished.

"My dear, please stop for a minute and listen to me," she said gently. "Sirius has gone, and I will not let him come back. But, please, sit down and listen to what I have to say."

Her sobs had stopped, but poor Zen looked awful. She blew her nose and slumped down on the edge of the bed.

Calyxa took a straight-backed chair from the corner and drew it up in front of the taller woman. "I cannot blame you for wanting to escape from this place after the pain Sirius has caused you. I have twice endured the loss of cherished lovers, as you may know, so I can understand what you feel. But you must think clearly. Where do you intend to go?"

"Anywhere. It doesn't matter as long as it's not here."

"You know that you cannot go home without Professor Dumbledore's help."

"He _won't_ help me," Zen wailed, and the tears again poured out. "He's keeping me here like a prisoner. I can't make him do it, and he won't when I ask."

"Listen to me," said Calyxa, taking her hands. "He will come here tomorrow, and we shall compel him to send you home. But you _cannot_ leave here tonight. Think about it. There is no way that Sirius will permit you to leave without him. Remember, he is a skilled, powerful wizard."

Zen closed her eyes. "Then I really am a prisoner."

"No, no. Never think that, for that man is in love with you, and he will not keep you here against your will. If you leave, though, he will go with you to see that you are safe, that you are protected. But if he leaves the safety of this house, he will be exposing himself to mortal danger, as well you know."

Zen looked at her in horror. Despite the pain and deception, she obviously cared about what happened to Sirius, which was promising.

"If you leave him, he will go out of his mind and be unable to think clearly, which will make him easier to capture. No matter what he has done, I do not believe that you want him to be sent back to Azkaban Prison – or worse."

There was a soft knock at the door, and Calyxa rose from the chair to open it. Sirius stood with two snifters of lovely amber brandy, but he looked absolutely wretched.

"Thank you," she said quietly, with a smile, taking the glasses from him. "Give us some time to talk, and I shall come see you downstairs in a little while."

"She's not going to leave, is she?" he asked in a low, pleading voice.

Calyxa smiled and shook her head. "Now, just go. I shall be down later."

Although he went, it was with great reluctance. She closed the door again and brought back the glasses to Zen, who had not looked over at Sirius.

"Here, drink this," Calyxa instructed, handing her one of the glasses.

Zen took a sip and grimaced.

"No matter how difficult it is, you must stay." She sipped her drink. "It is better than your running away and his following you. How awful it would be if he were thus caught and handed over to the Dementors."

"No, you're right," Zen sighed and took another sip. "He'd do something stupid, like he always does."

Calyxa heaved a great sigh. At least the threat of immediate disaster had been averted. "Will you stay tonight?"

"Yeah. I just… can't see him. Or Remus, or any of them." She was weeping again and wiping her eyes with more tissues.

"No need to worry. You stay here, and no one will disturb you until I locate Professor Dumbledore."

"Okay."

Calyxa hesitated, studying the other woman. "One thing more. Do not think there is any possibility of escaping undetected. Right now, I can guarantee that Sirius is setting very intricate wards all around the house that will alert him to any attempt to penetrate their boundaries."

Zen cursed under her breath, which made Calyxa smile. Of course, her anger would alleviate some of the terrible pain she was suffering; however, it amused Calyxa to imagine in which House Dumbledore's Sorting Hat would place this ferocious woman.

"I would take you to my house for the night if I thought it would help. But he would only follow us there, and it would not be safe for any of us, especially him."

"You know, _I_'m the one who's been kidnapped and imprisoned." Despite a flat monotone, Zen sounded a little annoyed. "I don't know why the heck we should care about how much danger _he_'s in."

"I know," said Calyxa, "but he really is the dearest man. And he loves you madly and would risk a Dementor's Kiss to be sure that you are safe. A liar he may be, but I am certain that he is not capable of the lechery of which you accuse him."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm hoping to finish this soon! Classes begin tomorrow, and it's going to be a crazy month for me! 


	14. Zen the Merciless

**Chapter 14: Zen the Merciless**

The idea of finding a woman to care enough about Sirius to help him had always bothered Remus because he knew his friend could easily suffer cruel disappointment and have his fragile heart broken. After hearing Calyxa's dramatic story, he understood that Dumbledore's plan had ended up harming two people, both Sirius and Zen.

Since Zen had intended to leave, Sirius had been suffering terrible guilt, grief, and fear – it was even worse than Remus had imagined. If they couldn't convince Zen to change her mind, the result would be far worse than it would have been if they had never brought her here.

It was too late to find someone else, not that it had ever had much of a chance of working. Calyxa located Dumbledore and arranged to have him come to headquarters to talk to Zen. The headmaster had suggested that they gather the other Order members whom Zen had grown to like during her time with Sirius. Remus thought it was a bad idea altogether_. Make it easier for her to say goodbye to us all at once_, he thought.

Because the meeting was on such short notice, Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus were joined only by Moody, Tonks, and Molly. With a wary look, Zen sat in the chair across the table from Dumbledore and ignored Sirius. "Is this some kind of inquisition? Are you planning on burning me at the stake if I don't cooperate?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"Then it's a wizard parole board to let me off for good behavior?" she asked. "I have been _very_ good. I'm sure Sirius will vouch for me."

"You have been free to leave any time you wished," he explained.

"That's bullshit," she replied just as pleasantly. "You told me I had to stay here so I didn't influence anything that happened."

"It is true. However, if you had truly wanted to leave, it would have been easy for me to send you home. It's a long time you have been here with us. Far longer than any of the other authors who have honored us with visits."

"But Sirius didn't _like_ any of them," she said with sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"And they didn't like him." He smiled. "It's a curious thing. Something has been interfering with arranging your return, and we had a devil of a time trying to identify what it was."

"No doubt." She glanced all around and then back at the headmaster. "Am I supposed to guess?"

"No, of course not." He studied her for a moment. "Your return was hampered by a powerful affection growing between you and Sirius."

She blinked a little but other than that maintained her bland expression. "Is that it?"

"It is."

"Have you straightened it out?"

"Nearly, but no," he told her. You see, it is you who are creating the interference."

"Me?" she asked in surprise.

"Your attachment to Sirius had kept you here," he explained, "and you simply do not want to leave."

"How convenient!" she chuckled. "Do you think I'm going to believe you? I wouldn't believe you no matter what you said."

Dumbledore studied her with pursed lips. "Then whom will you believe?"

She glanced around and then back at him. "You're kidding me, right? You're a Wizarding pimp procuring unsuspecting women for your lonely wizards, and you expect me to _believe_ one of you? I'll tell you what I _can_ believe – that the guys would be in on this, but I can't believe Mrs. Weasley and Tonks and Calyxa would let you get away with it!"

"No, it's not like that at all," said Remus, shocked and appalled by her words. Did she really believe that? No wonder she had tried to leave last night! "We thought you could save Sirius's life. If you cared enough about him, you might agree to help him. Before it's too late."

Her eyes grew wider during his speech and her face became very pale. "You _know_?" she asked in shock.

The others all shared a look. "Yes, we know," Moody sighed. "So many authors coming through and warning us of what to watch out for, telling us what the dangers are."

She frowned at Dumbledore. "Shouldn't you have Obliviated them?"

"I did at first," he admitted. "But, there was too much information. Obliviating them would have caused damage."

She nodded slowly. "That's your business. It has nothing to do with me. But you know that I can't help… Sirius." Her voice caught as she said his name. She lowered her eyes to the tabletop and drew in a long breath. Remus thought she was going to cry, but after a moment, she looked around at them dry-eyed. "Or any of you who are going to die."

"But why not?" asked Tonks.

"Because I'm not the one who wrote the story. The books, all those copies, those millions that have been read – and made into movies." She grinned at Tonks, but there was no humor in her expression. "You can't imagine that _I_'d write children's books." Tonks reddened a bit at that cryptic statement.

"But he _could_ go with you," said Remus. "It's why we need your help. To get him settled in a new life."

She paused. Something flickered in her eyes and she again looked down at the tabletop. Slowly, she drew in a deep breath before finally addressing Sirius, who had remained silent. "What do you think you're going to _do_ in my world?" she asked. "There isn't a lot of need for wizards."

"What does it matter what I do?" he asked.

"I'm not in any need of a house husband."

Anger flared in his eyes. "That's good, because I'm never going to be one."

"Oh, for God's sake, I can hardly support myself on what little I earn. I'm a student, remember, and I still have a whole year before I finish my degree. I can't afford another mouth to feed."

His expression hardened. "Very hypocritical of someone who said she never made decisions based on money."

She stopped to consider it. "You're right. It's not the money," she agreed. "But to leave your life, your friends, everyone and everything you know. I've done it – twice – and it takes a pretty strong set of goals to motivate you to succeed."

"I'm fairly sure I'd be motivated if it meant I would survive," he countered sarcastically.

"No, you have no goal," she disagreed. "The only thing you'd have is me, and I don't like the idea of someone living just for me. You need some kind of goal in life, some kind of direction. I can't have you lying around moaning in a deep depression because you miss your world and your life."

His face was like stone now. "You really think I'd come just to _live for you_?" he asked in a frigid voice.

"That's _exactly_ what would happen if you came with me."

"If you don't want me _living for you_, you'll be happy to hear that it's not going to happen. Ever." He shook his head.

"Then it's settled," she said. "You'll stay here, and I'll go home."

Sirius froze; his expression changed. "I guess it's best that way," he said without emotion in his voice. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but he and Zen continued to stare at one another.

"Once done, this cannot be undone," said Dumbledore. "Why make such a hasty decision? Wait one week, and then I'll abide by your decision."

"I thought you might say that," Zen sighed. "What's one more week after four months of imprisonment, right?" She shook her head. "No. Send me home now, today, or I'll go to the Death Eaters and give them all sorts of useful information."

Remus felt his heart clench. Even Dumbledore frowned, but then Remus noticed Sirius hiding a little grin. The woman _had to_ be bluffing. To Remus, it seemed like a desperate attempt to force Dumbledore to act.

"Don't think I won't do it," she threatened. "Just because you haven't made use of what I know doesn't mean _they_ won't. It won't change the outcome, of course; it'll just make things harder for your side."

"She _will_ do it," said Sirius, who knew her the best, with a grave frown. "It's no idle threat."

Zen's eyes flew to his, and they stared at each other hard for a long, tense moment. Tears formed in her eyes and spattered onto her cheeks. "I _can't_ stay here," she whispered. "It would be too cruel. I can't change something that's already happened no matter what I do." A little sniffle escaped, and she brushed at her wet eyes. "Do you really want me to stay here just to wait around for you to…?"

Remus finally understood that the antagonistic words she had spoken had been covering up her true fear. She seemed so absolutely certain that she couldn't help – so certain that she would not even _try_ to save Sirius's life – that he suspected she knew something that they didn't.

Sirius, on the other hand, was looking as if her tears were daggers slicing him open. "No, that's the last thing I want." He glanced at Dumbledore. "Just take her home," he demanded. "Make sure she gets there safely."

* * *

Once he had said goodbye, there was nothing else to say, Remus knew. Zen's mind was made up, and even Dumbledore sighed in resignation. _We've all done our best_, Remus thought. He knew that he had actually got her to consider helping them, but in the end, he had not been able to influence Zen the Merciless. She was going to abandon Sirius to his fate. 

She stopped, though, and looked at Sirius, and he held her gaze. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's all right," he said in a quiet voice. "Can't say I blame you."

She nodded, still looking at him, and then she moved over to embrace him. Sirius welcomed her into his arms, and she fitted herself comfortably against him with her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek nestled against his neck. Sirius's eyes closed as he held her and pressed his jaw against the side of her head.

Remus blinked in surprise and glanced at Dumbledore. This was no friendly hug, no farewell of casual friends. This was the aching quest for solace of two people who were suffering. The older wizard held up his hand to stop anyone from saying anything. He looked around at the group of people who stood there as if to say _Wait._

The embrace continued with Sirius hugging her tightly and breathing in the fragrance of her hair. The woman eventually drew back though it was obviously with regret. Sirius did not quite let her go: he let her pull back but not out of his arms. She looked up at him, still holding on to his waist.

_Oh, Merlin_, thought Remus as he saw the way they looked at each other. _They're in love with each other! She's in love with him! She really is! How could I have missed it? How could _all_ of us have missed it?_

Slowly, Sirius leaned down, and Zen reached up to meet the kiss. Remus watched in astonishment as they shared a long, sensuous kiss. It made him feel somewhat uncomfortable to be witnessing something so private. In shock, Remus realized that this was obviously not the first time that they had kissed.

Tonks grinned and covered her mouth with her hand so she wouldn't giggle out loud. She and Molly shared a smile, and Remus figured that the women had noticed that attraction between Sirius and Zen whereas none of the men had.

Dumbledore's grim resignation was gone, and his eyes held their familiar twinkle. Clearly, he thought that Zen would now consider staying and helping them. Even old Moody had a horrible kind of smile on his face.

The kiss broke off, and the lovers held each other tightly, breathing hard and eyes squeezed shut. Neither one of them had spoken, and the wordlessness made the moment more poignant. None of the other Order members moved or made a noise for fear of disturbing the tender moment that could save Sirius's life.

Finally, they parted, and Sirius took out a small, velvet box from his pocket. "Take this with you."

"No…"

"Just take it." He thrust it into her hands. "Wear them or sell them, but take them and think of me."

She looked miserably at him as tears seeped from her eyes, but she nodded. Then she turned away, picked up her bags, put the velvet box away safely, and opened the door.

In the doorway, she paused for a long moment, and finally, blinking tears from her eyes, she looked at Sirius. One long last look before going out the door.

They all stood there in a shocked and horrible silence staring at the open door. Then Sirius turned and walked up the stairs without saying anything. Remus imagined that he only wanted to be alone and didn't blame him.

The image of another departure and another farewell pressed into his conscious mind. He and Calyxa had parted, and then… something had happened and they had not met again for more than sixteen years. _We never know what's going to happen tomorrow_.

Dumbledore followed Zen with a sigh, and Moody went to close the door. "Hey – isn't that the little countess they're talking to? And who's that with them? Tall, poncy-lookin' wizard?"

Remus went to look and grimaced. "That's Calyxa's former husband," he told them. "Prince Borodin of Tuscany."

* * *

Author's note: As usual, totally unbeta'ed, so all the mistakes are mine. ;-) 

This chapter's title refers to the quality that Zen has that enables her to do something as difficult as walking away when she does - a kind of strength combined with "tough love". Very easy to call this quality _mercilessness_.

I'm taking 3 classes, including one called _Soil Physics_, which is required. (Not that I know anything about any kind of physics - classical, quantum, or applied). I'm teaching one class (grad students usually have to do this for financial reasons). I also have _other_ part time work, AND I have to start researching and writing my master's thesis... so I plan to crank out the rest of this ASAP! For anyone reading _CotG_, I'll be back to that as soon as I finish this.

Thanks for all the messages and comments. Most of you know how helpful it is to get feedback. And it's very difficult to respond to people who leave anonymous reviews, so please try to log in _(The Singer in White_ - this means you!) :-D


	15. Borodin della Gherardesca

**Author's Notes:** This chapter was particularly hard to write because not everyone reading it is familiar with the characters from _Children of the Goddess_. I'm hoping that this will work, but the one important bit of information that the reader needs to know is that Zen created the character of Prince Borodin as a handsome, well-bred, well-mannered, wealthy, irresistible, dangerous wizard with a terrible reputation. I don't think anything else matters much to the story. Maybe that all the Janarra are empaths, and the general name of their deity is "Losna". They are a lunar cult of Italian hereditary witches.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Borodin della Gherardesca**

From the terrace garden of the Prince's villa, Zen gazed out on the lovely deepening evening colors of the scene below: the rooftops, the Duomo, and the Ponte Vecchio over the Arno. Being busy, seeing new things, and meeting new people had been useful at helping her to occasionally forget her jagged wounds. Of course, the time in Venice had been pure magic! Metaphorical as well as literal. And now this was a bit more ordinary but still lovely. However, although Sirius had less than a month left, she knew that he was still alive in this world, and she missed him profoundly.

It would fade a little as time passed, but she cursed her own rotten luck for finding such an excellent, darling man with a death sentence hanging over him that could not be pardoned in this world or any other. Of course, Zen had no idea how long her life would be. Like many, she attempted to approach each day, each moment, as if it was all the time she had and would ever have. On the other hand, she intended to live into her nineties, at least, and she certainly had genetics on her side!

Now, however, the only thought that occurred to her was how many years, how many decades, was she going to have to live after Sirius was gone? No one she knew had ever met or even seen him. All she had to remember him was the sapphire bracelet and earrings and the photograph that he had secretly tucked into the velvet jeweler's box.

She hadn't looked at it much because it made her cry almost uncontrollably. She vaguely remembered Tonks taking it one evening after a meeting of the Order when most of the others had left. She and Sirius, looking quite blissful, were sitting close together and laughing. Now, she carried the precious item wrapped in protective plastic in a pocket inside her robes.

As the evening air cooled her face, which had become flushed with rich foods and wines, she heard the sound of someone clearing his throat rather discreetly, and she knew it was Borodin. Not that she blamed him. Several times over the course of the past few days, she had burst into tears unexpectedly, so he probably wanted to give her a second to compose herself before he approached her. "I'm not one to sing a serenade for a lady," he said from several paces behind her. "I intend to have a cigar and a glass of calvados, if you'll join me."

"No cigar for me," she replied, turning to face him. He was exactly as she had pictured him: cheeky, arrogant, absurdly handsome, unapologetic, and a truly compassionate gentleman. It was easy to see why Calyxa had married him and even easier see why the pair had divorced, for they could not spend any length of time together without bickering. "But I'll take some calvados. It's been years since I had some."

"Not exactly on a student's budget, eh?" He was standing at a little glass-topped terrace table where he poured the drinks. "It's getting rather dark, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah."

He drew out his wand and lit some colored lanterns strung all around the garden. _Almost as if by magic_, she thought and then laughed.

"Madam, I've had my invitations refused, but never has a lady _laughed_ at me," he declared in mock-indignation.

"A little humility never hurt anyone," she retorted.

He chuckled as he handed her a glass. "Come and sit down, my dear. Are you certain you don't want a cigar?"

She had to smile as she took her seat upon a wrought iron chair set with comfortable brocade cushions. Although she knew that there were quite a few women who smoked cigars, it seemed like an unfeminine thing to do while wearing formal robes and jewels. _This is heavenly_, she thought as she settled into the soft cushions, sipped her drink, and gazed at the prince.

"Calyxa has explained to me all about your troubles with your man," he began.

Three days ago, Zen had been expecting this. In payment for the glorious holiday, she would have to discuss her reasons for leaving Sirius at such a time. Now, however, she was unprepared. Curse the man for lulling her into letting down her guard before starting his inquisition! "And you're going to give me your _sage_ advice?"

"Me?" He laughed as he clipped off the end of his cigar. "There is nothing sage about me, and I never give advice unless I'm asked for it. No, I was just curious because I didn't understand everything. At least not the way Calyxa explained it."

"Probably because there are things she doesn't know."

"Such as?" When she didn't reply, he went on. "As I understand it, you were brought here by Professor Dumbledore from another world where our lives and destinies have been foretold in a book."

"Something like that."

"And you're convinced that no intervention on your part can change this predetermined destiny." Again, she didn't reply, so he lit his cigar and took several quick puffs until it caught. "Also, she said that Lupin thinks you know more than you're letting on and _that_ is why you are so certain you can't help them."

"Too smart for his own good," she muttered under her breath.

"Of course he is. No one to whom I was ever married would settle for less." He took a sip of the apple brandy before settling his cobalt blue eyes on her. "Now, please tell me the truth, my lady. Did you leave this English wizard in relief? Or is Calyxa right when she says it tore out your heart to leave him?"

A twinge of anger stirred Zen. He was baiting her, she knew, by suggesting that she might have been relieved to get away from Sirius. "You know she's right. She's _always_ right about other people's feelings."

"Now, don't be angry," he said with a grin, but she recognized that his eyes had softened, so she knew he was using the Janarra empathic sense on her.

"Stop that," she snapped. "I don't need you poking around inside my head."

"I can't see much," he assured her. "Only the women can." He took a pull on his cigar. "But your emotions are broadcast quite powerfully."

"Fantastic." She sipped her own drink.

"My dear lady, I'm not suggesting that you undertake any course of action. I ask my questions merely to satisfy my own curiosity."

No world existed were she would believe his crap. "You _know_ I don't believe you. Why do you have to pretend?"

In response, he blew out a cloud of smoke that seemed to wreath his head like a halo. _More like a fallen angel_, she thought as she regarded his long, curly hair and electrifying eyes. "Lady," he began without coaxing, "your actions have not been easy ones. Why are you so firmly convinced that our destinies are inescapable?" He smiled at her.

_Oh, God, he's handsome!_ she thought, annoyed at herself for making him so irresistible.

"Predetermined destiny goes against everything that the Janarra believe," he went on. "But I think you know that."

"Of course I know that, I added it in myself," she snapped.

"Did you, now?" he purred. "What else did you add in?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just the Italians. And – well... Russians."

He smiled again. It was no secret that his mother was Russian. "And what is it that makes you so sure that events can't be changed?"

What could she say? Once again, she didn't reply.

Borodin leaned to fill her glass. "Please tell me, does Amanita survive?" his voice and expression were both soft, worried.

"Yes, of course she does," she assured him. Her annoyance evaporated. She couldn't be annoyed at him when he was so worried about his only child.

"And Calyxa?"

"Yes. All of my characters, I think. Except for the old contessa, but she sprang to life in my mind with only a few months left to live."

He considered all that she had said as he smoked his cigar and drank his calvados. Eventually, he said, "I suppose you never met Calyxa's mother."

"No. How could I? She must have died twenty years ago."

"You would have liked her. Everyone did. Calyxa is like her in many ways." He studied her thoughtfully for a long minute. "What did you read that the others don't know? What happens to your English wizard that makes you certain?"

She swallowed the rest of her drink in a huge gulp and pushed her glass towards him for a refill. "The Resurrection Stone."

Borodin paused while pouring. He looked stunned "Does it really exist?"

"It does in this world."

He sat staring at her wide-eyed for several seconds before pouring her a generous amount and then topping off his own glass. He took a large swallow. "_Losna_," he muttered. Then he looked at Zen with all pretenses at teasing gone. "So his incorporeal spirit returned to someone who wanted to see him?"

She nodded. Now, she was crying again.

He took out a crisp handkerchief and handed it to her. "Why didn't you just tell them? They already know he's going to die. Perhaps this news would be the final _coup de grace_, but hardly something you needed to hide to protect them." He watched her cry for a moment and tried to figure it out. "What is it that you're not saying?"

"I couldn't tell them," she managed to say without sobbing. "He's not the only one to die. Maybe they realize that, but it's a damn bloodbath."

He scratched his chin as he watched her wiping her eyes. "Lupin?"

She nodded without looking with him.

"I see." He sat back in his chair and swirled his drink around in his glass. "How does it affect Calyxa to lose her man?"

An enormous rush of affection swelled up inside her. The prince's obvious concern about his ex-wife was sweet and beautiful. "No, she doesn't. I mean, she's not in the original story. Don't tell her, but I just added her in. And all of you."

He blinked and stared at her so intently that she averted her eyes because she knew what he was attempting to do. "After you added her in," he asked, "does she lose her man?"

She frowned at him. "I haven't written that far yet."

With a nod, Borodin drew deeply on his cigar, held the smoke for a few seconds and then expelled it. He took a mouthful of calvados and smoked in silence for a while.

Zen dabbed at her eyes to dry them. She wanted to blow her nose, but she didn't want to hand the prince's handkerchief back to him with anything more than tears on it.

"I don't think it's too late for you to go back to your English wizard," he finally remarked. "He still has a few weeks, hasn't he?"

"Go back to him?" she asked, not sure if she had heard him right.

"My dear, if there was a chance – even a remote chance – that you could do something to save your lover's life, I suspect you would make the attempt."

"Of course I would." Now, she was _really_ annoyed at him, but the brandy was going to her head and prevented her from getting angry or making a vicious comment.

"Think about it then. You know that the original story ends in tragedy and that there is no way for you to prevent it."

"I think we've established that," she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

"Sweet lady! You aren't thinking clearly! You've just said that you added Calyxa and the Janarra into the story. While I must congratulate your good taste on describing me, I must also remind you of your own words: you haven't yet written far enough to repeat the tragedy in its entirety."

As the slow realization of what he was saying crept upon her, Zen stared at him openmouthed.

"This is _not_ the original story, my dear," he explained. "If it were, there would be no Calyxa, and you certainly wouldn't be here talking with me. No, this is _your_ version of events, and because you haven't written the outcome, there is still time to save your man's life."

Unable to speak, think, or even breathe, she continued to stare at him. Was it possible? Was she making the biggest mistake of her life? A fatal mistake?

"Are you unwell?" Borodin asked as she struggled to come to terms with the enormity of what she had done.

"Oh, God, I've been so stupid," she breathed.

"Indeed not." He grinned, and she imagined that even without his other character traits. That lazy grin would be enough to turn most women into jelly. "You added us to this story, and you agreed to come with us to Italy before going home knowing that we would find a way to make you reconsider your actions. Who else in the world could have persuaded you to speak of the painful truth but me?"

"You're right."

"Every step has led you to this realization," he informed her. "No predetermined destiny exists, but the Goddess is certainly guiding you. What remains to be seen is what actions you will undertake of your own free will."


	16. Not a Dream

**Chapter 16: Not a Dream**

The television set turned out to have been a good idea, Sirius thought as he tried to follow what was going on in the current program. It helped him forget for hours at a time, and he had a lot to forget. Moony was spending a lot of time with him, just sitting together and drinking, and he had made sure they had loads of beer, probably because it would be a hell of a lot harder for Sirius to get drunk. But old Moony was looking more ragged than usual these days, and Sirius hoped that there were no problems between him and Calyxa. _One of us has to end up happy_, he thought darkly.

The beer tasted good, and Moony had brought back some onion bhajee from an Indian takeaway, so this was about as good as it was going to get. They sat watching the television and drinking, and he heard Remus say, "Calyxa!" as if from far away.

When Sirius glanced over at the door, he saw Calyxa followed by Zen. This was as much as his beer-soaked mind could process. He stood up, staring at her and wondering if it was another dream. "You came back!" he declared in stupefaction.

Before he knew what was happening, she was hugging and kissing him and trying to talk. Surprised and overwhelmed, he put his arms around her, kissed her back, tried to feel her and taste her – this was not like his dreams. "You taste like apples," he told her although his voice wasn't working quite right.

"Yeah." She was laughing and weeping at the same time, and he liked the first but hated the second. "You're drunk!" she declared as if it were wonderful news.

Remus and Calyxa had disappeared he realized when they sat upon the sofa, cuddling together. Zen was saying things to him that didn't register. All he knew was that she was wearing his sapphires and pretty blue robes, and her hair was a tousled cloud that he smoothed over and over with his fingers.

"Are you staying?" he asked. His drunkenness dulled both his anxiety and hopefulness, and everything seemed so disconnected. He wasn't sure why she had come back after he had been so certain that he'd never see her again.

"Haven't you heard anything I've said?" She sat up, smiling and looking carefully at him. "I suppose we should talk about it when you're a little more sober."

"But you're _staying_?" he asked again.

"If you want me to," she replied, smiling.

"If_ I_ want?" Was she joking? She wouldn't tease him about something like this; he just wished he hadn't drunk so much. "Of course I want you to stay."

She reached to bury the fingers of one hand in his hair. "And I will."

Happiness swelled in his chest and he could feel a big smile spreading across his face. "But – wait." He grew serious again. "Your room's not ready. There's no covers on the bed."

"Well, do you mind sharing _your_ bed with me?"

"Sharing?" He tried to concentrate. "You mean sleep in my room. Yeah."

She chuckled. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you sobered up a little and then turn in. It's really getting late.

* * *

After eating some bread and cheese and drinking loads of water, his head had cleared enough to realize he hadn't showered or shaved – or even changed his clothes or slept in bed – in three days. There was no way that he was going to lie down in bed with Zen in this state, so he headed to the shower where he scrubbed himself clean. A blast of cold water at the end really revived him. 

Afterwards, he cleaned his teeth and put on the t-shirt and pajama bottoms he usually wore to bed. When he entered his room, however, Zen was already asleep on her side. He stood looking at her for a long time. He knew this wasn't a dream; she really had come back and was going to stay with him. It was good to be a little more sober so he could actually feel something: huge, trembling relief, painful tenderness, and the first creeping awareness of joy.

After putting out the light, he climbed into bed and settled down with his arm over her. Though he was very tired and sleepy, he had no desire to actually go to sleep. He wished she was awake so he could hear her voice, see her eyes, hear her throaty chuckle that made his spine tingle. But she was here; it was enough. He could feel her warmth and softness and inhale her fragrance. He could feel her _presence_.

Several times he dozed; each time he woke, it was with a languid smile of contentment. As was usual, Zen turned a few times in her sleep but ended up with one hand palm-down on his chest. He interpreted this as her subconscious gesture of possessiveness, which he adored because it meant that she wanted him that much, that he belonged to her.

About an hour before dawn, she awoke. He knew she had because she moved like a snake, her whole body undulating, and then she yawned.

"Sirius?" she murmured.

"Yeah."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," he replied honestly.

She raised herself on one elbow, found his jaw in the dark with her hand, and then leaned to kiss him on the mouth. Merlin, he loved when she did that! He touched her arm and hair as she kissed him and let his thoughts melt away.

All too soon, however, she stopped. "Do you remember when we used to talk about rules and date nights?"

Laughter rumbled deep in his chest as he tightened his arm around her waist. "Sure."

One of her hands lightly stroked his chest and shoulder. "I remember that one night, after dinner, when you decided to start making Sirius dolls because everyone would want one."

"Oh, yeah," he laughed.

"I was wondering. If I'm still allowed to do whatever I want to you, what are my chances of getting you to take off your pajamas and lie back?"

It took him a couple of seconds to understand what she was saying. When he did, he sat up and yanked the t-shirt over his head with one motion. Almost as quickly, he wriggled down his bottoms and kicked them off, and then he lay back down.

Zen was laughing softly in the dark. "That's my good boy," she purred in his ear as she petted his bare chest.

"Your obedient toy doll," he murmured. "Just tell me what to do, baby."

"Lie still," she murmured. And he did.

* * *

All day, Sirius was a bit hung over but completely emptied of all the pain and grief of the last few days. Even the terrible guilt that had constantly plagued him for not sharing the whole truth was gone. She would stay. She _knew_ everything and would stay. She wanted him in spite of everything. It was all that mattered. 

Zen did some talking and explaining, but there was nothing she could say that could compete with the mere fact of her presence. As if she realized that he needed the physical more than the intellectual, Zen didn't bother to apologize of explain much. She let him sit with her and hold her and kiss her a little.

Although he knew that the constant physical contact would go on only for today, it had been a difficult, painful time without her, and his emotions squeezed and swelled his heart. He wished there was some way to prevent her from ever deserting him again. "Marry me," he blurted as they cuddled together on the sofa after lunch. "Now. Today."

She sat back to look at him. For one horrible instant, he thought she was about to laugh, but she didn't. "Marry?" she repeated, looking both stunned and cautious.

When she didn't say anything else, he went on, attempting to sound calm and slightly amused. "Sure. We'll gather everyone, have a party. I haven't got a ring, not yet, but I'm sure Calyxa would be overjoyed to help out on that."

She couldn't seem to decide what to say. Her eyes held warmth and affection but there was also uncertainty. "Sweetie, a legal bond like that isn't going to be any stronger than promises to stay with each other." She heaved a great sigh. "Anyway, I doubt either you or me is going to be trotting down to the local municipal offices to get a marriage license."

He grinned. "It's not the legal bit that matters. Anyway, what's legal here won't be legal for you, will it?"

"Yeah," she replied, but she wasn't really looking at him, and her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

This perceived indifference wounded him, but he told himself quite fiercely that she had come back and that she was _not_ hesitating because she didn't want him. There was another reason. "Tell me," he pressed. "What are you thinking?"

Her eyes focused on him and she smiled; then she raised her eyebrows and shrugged while blushing a little. "I've always promised myself not to get married until I had known the man for a year."

_A year?_ he thought in anguish.

"It's a completely arbitrary length of time, of course," she went on, "and it has nothing to do with us. I'm going to stay with you. And very soon, you're going to come home with me, and we're going to stay together. That's it."

The ideas that he had been wrestling with for so long, the idea of his own mortality, of leaving his world and everything he knew, of going with her and depending completely on her for a while, these ideas suddenly seemed to be real, concrete, and frightening.

It was not the first time that he faced what lay in store for him. He had considered the questions before, but this was the first time that he could replace the _if_s with _when_s. _If he went with her_ became _when he went with her_. What was he going to do while she was attending classes or studying? Of course, he could try to be helpful by cleaning up her flat and doing the shopping and cooking. He sincerely hoped that his magic would work in her world!

Of course, he would eventually become accustomed to that world so that he could work and earn some money to help with the expenses. He also intended to do something useful rather than just earning wages. He wasn't sure exactly what it was yet, but he knew he'd find something to do that was worthwhile and rewarding.

"I don't think we'll be able to gather everyone on such short notice," Zen mused, and he looked at her in surprise. "If we're going to have a nice party here, we'll probably have to do it next Saturday."

Was she saying yes? "Anything you want, baby," he said smoothly with his best smile.

"And you can tell Calyxa to get two rings. How does a matched set of his and hers sound to you?"

His heart lurched in excitement. She wanted him to wear a ring? Although he knew that she was a mature adult who didn't have the same juvenile possessive feelings of ownership that he had towards her, the idea that she wanted to mark him as _taken_ him thrilled him.

"It sounds excellent," he murmured with a grin.

* * *

Author's notes: It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. Because it is, I will probably only be able to get things posted on weekends, which frustrates me. I don't suffer the absence of a Muse, only the shortage of precious time! 

As things stand, there are two more chapters. Perhaps an epilogue, but that may very well be tacked on to the final chapter. As always, I welcome and appreciate comments and suggestions.


	17. The Surprise Guest

**Chapter 17: The Surprise Guest**

For once, the kitchen stood abandoned by everyone at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Crowding the house, eating, drinking, laughing, and toasting the happy couple with ice cold champagne, friends moved among the rooms. In the sitting room, Zen caught sight of Sirius speaking with his godson and some of the other youngsters, so she stopped to watch with an affectionate smile. How gloriously happy he was! Everything about this day had cheered him.

The boy, Harry, still seemed a bit astonished to find himself attending his godfather's wedding as the best man, of all things. Sirius had asked Remus to stand up with him as best man; however, the cagy werewolf had persuaded Sirius that it would mean the world to Harry instead, and it had touched the boy deeply.

As she looked at them, her sweet feeling of tenderness faded, and a powerful, deep sadness filled her. The unspoken truth remained that Remus knew Sirius would be safe in his new life while Harry would think he had died. There was no way around that until the end of the war; only then could Harry and the other children know the truth. Harry's last memories of Sirius would be happy ones, at least, but the time was coming very shortly when Sirius would leave this place and never see his friends again. Not Harry, who was like his son; not Remus, who was like his brother; not Tonks or Calyxa – none of the people whom Sirius loved, who loved him and would grieve for the man when he was gone.

As for Sirius, he would be alive and with her, and he had promised that they would live well, that they would dine well and drink good wine no matter what kind of budget they were on. She knew they had a good chance for a happy life together, but it was going to be hard for him to adjust to life without the people he loved best. It didn't matter now, of course, but Zen was fully aware of what lay in store for the future: that this man was going to suffer grief and depression and she was going to have to help him deal with it.

"Take the bad with the good," she murmured aloud, for she knew she would have to face the problems as they arose and that worrying about it now was worse than useless.

"I imagine it will be worth it," said Calyxa, who had come up beside her.

"I imagine it will," she agreed with a sigh.

Calyxa looked at her with a delicate smile on her lips. "Severus has asked for a moment of your time," she said in a modulated voice that Zen could just hear. "He would like to speak to you in the kitchen without Sirius present."

Zen felt a smile tugging up the corners of her mouth. "No Sirius? I wonder why."

When they had planned this wedding, Zen and Sirius had written notes of invitation to all the order members, and Snape was no exception. She had made Sirius swear that he would be cordial to the potions professor if he came, and it had been suspiciously easy to get him to agree. He seemed so blissful and filled with joy these days that she suspected he would have done anything she asked.

It was no surprise that Snape had declined in a formal note addressed only to Zen; yet, he was here now. What could he want to say to her? She had never spoken with him other than a brief, "Good evening," or "Good night," when he arrived for meetings. He had declined the invitation to attend the wedding, and Zen doubted he had changed his mind. The only possibility that occurred to her was that he wanted to say something unpleasant about Sirius, but she doubted it.

On the way to the kitchen, she took up two glasses and a bottle of champagne. Whatever his feelings towards Sirius, the man couldn't refuse to drink to _her_ happiness; he had no quarrel with her. Although she suspected that she might be naïve in this situation, Zen went to him with a blithe spirit.

"Hi, Professor" she said as she entered the kitchen, and he turned to her with his hands clasped behind his back. "I was glad to hear you were here. I hope you'll drink some champagne with me." Before he had a chance to reply, she set down the glasses and began to pour.

"Yes, of course," he replied, but he seemed pensive and uncertain.

Zen wondered what he had come here to discuss because he obviously had something he didn't want to say. "Here you go." she said as she handed him his glass.

"Congratulations and good luck," he said, lifting his glass and taking a sip.

"Heh! We make our own luck," she declared as she raised her own glass for a drink.

Snape seemed to be examining her elegant deep red robes, and she had to smile because he probably equated the color with Gryffindor House and imagined she had worn them to please Sirius, which was not the case. She had worn this vivid red because the color flattered her and she looked very well in it. Sirius, in an attempt to make some use of his family fortune while he could, had presented her with a bracelet and pair of earrings like the originals but set with rubies.

"Forgive me for interrupting your wedding, Mrs. Black," he began smoothly, and the title startled her. "Professor Dumbledore advised me that this would be the one time I might be able to share a private word without your husband… interfering."

Despite the strangeness of being called _Mrs._, she couldn't help a laugh. "He was right, which is no surprise. The king of all interfering himself. But please call me Zen." She pulled out a chair and sat. "Have a seat and tell me what's going on. I'm curious to hear what you have to say."

He took the chair opposite her, looking uncomfortable. "I don't think I need to say anything by means of an explanation about our situation here and what is going to occur in the next few years."

"No," she replied, wondering what _he_ could possibly have to say to _her_.

"The headmaster is quite pleased with the way things have worked out and that you have agreed to take … your husband to your home in order to give him a chance at survival."

"I think everyone was pleased." It amused her that he couldn't bring himself to say Sirius's name, but she also felt rather sorry for him.

"What I would like to ask is this: when the time comes, what do you think would be my chances of finding a place in your world?"

What he was asking shocked her enough that she couldn't respond at first. Although his face was a cool mask and his voice was emotionless, Zen felt intuitively that he was afraid – afraid to die and afraid to come right out and ask her what he really wanted to know.

"Of course, with your knowledge, it would be infinitely easier, and there would be no need to abduct and mislead _another_ unsuspecting woman."

His words sparked a wry smile. "I wish you'd been here the day Dumbledore tried to strong-arm me into staying. I could've used someone on my side." Then she sighed. "It's hard to leave everything that's familiar, but if you want to try, I'm sure there'll be a lot I can do to help."

He studied her with a frown. "If you did agree to help me, would it cause… _discord _between you and your husband?"

"No more than usual," she remarked with a laugh, but it made her wonder. Did Sirius really hate this man so much that he would begrudge the effort to help him survive? No, not after he had been so lucky; he might fume and complain and act like an idiot, but in the end, he would live and let live.

"The bald truth is that if you are unable to help me, there is little chance that Dumbledore's ridiculous plan will work a second time," he told her. "And I refuse to be a part of a plot like this one. You know as well as I do that Black is _extraordinarily_ lucky that things worked out as well as they did."

She nodded slowly. Despite the venom in his outburst – or, more probably, _because_ of it – she was even sorrier for this poor man, who was even more twisted and damaged than Sirius. "I agree with you, but as I said before, we make our own luck, and that's something you'll have to keep in mind. When the time comes, I'm willing to help you. Honestly, it'd be my pleasure to help a skilled, brave wizard like yourself."

She saw something flicker in his eyes, and she wished she had empathic senses. What was he thinking? Would subtle flattery affect him?

"Starting over in a new place is a huge opportunity. It's a clean slate, you know. You can be anything you want. It's also incredibly hard. You've got to do it in a positive frame of mind."

His lip curled into a sneer, and he began to speak. At the last instant, however, he caught himself and said nothing.

Seeing this relieved Zen, who imagined she had barely escaped being skewered by his acid tongue. On the other hand, the poor man! How difficult this must be for him! His only chance for survival depended upon the woman who had just married his lifelong enemy. No wonder his words were measured and his reactions guarded.

"Professor," she said quite seriously. "You're brilliant and very capable, and you could easily settle into a new life anywhere." Again, the flattery changed his expression, and she pressed her advantage. "And you have time on your side. I hope you'll use it to get ready for the huge change. It's obvious you have the required mental toughness – I can recognize it because I have it, too. Anyway, I'll help you, but when the time comes, it'll make my job easier if you're in the right state of mind."

Snape was frowning and thinking about what she had said, but he never got the chance to reply because Sirius entered the kitchen.

Zen groaned inwardly when she saw how he was scowling, and she stood up before he could say anything stupid. "Not a word from either of you," she warned them. "Nothing unpleasant. Not today."

Sirius stood glowering at Snape but said nothing.

"Excuse us for a minute," she said to Snape before either one of them could say anything.

"By all means," he replied, but he was glaring back at Sirius.

Zen drew Sirius out of the kitchen and up to the ground floor. "I was having a conversation with him," she told him.

"That useless git?" he retorted.

"Shhh!" She pointed to the slumbering portrait of Mrs. Black.

"Why would you _want_ to speak with that slimy, greasy wanker?" he asked in a quiet voice laced with venom.

"Oh, for God's sake," she muttered. "Just two days ago, you agreed that you were going to act like a grown man and not like a petulant little boy."

"That was before you wanted to be alone with Snivellus," he sneered. "And I am _not_ petulant."

That was true; she had used the wrong word. Zen studied him with a frown and considered how to diffuse his bitter anger. She could not imagine that he was jealous. "You don't think he's going to do me any harm, do you?"

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Or try and seduce me?"

He really laughed at that one. The tension was broken.

"I want to talk to him." She reached up and brushed s few strands of hair back from his cheek and tucked them behind his ear. It was a calculated move on her part, for she had noticed how he reacted whenever she touched him. Not even anything sexual or romantic; any affectionate touch on her part, and he softened completely. "Do you really want me not to just because you don't like him?"

He smiled and closed his eyes for a second as her fingertips lingered down against his jaw. Then he put his hands on her arms and drew her closer. His anger was gone, and his eyes were happy. "You do your talking," he said. "It's none of my business anyway."

Zen broke into a big smile and reached up to kiss him, petting his hair as they embraced.

"I said the right thing for once," he teased as he tightened his arms around her.

"I liked it," she sighed.

"Anything for you, baby."

Softened, she reached up to kiss him again, a soft, lingering kiss.

"Just let me know if he offends you, and I'll blast him."

With an exasperated sound, she let go of him. "That was short lived."

He grinned and swept her into his arms again. "Admit it! You love me, baby."

She heaved another sigh. "Which you are constantly testing."

He was chuckling as he loosened his hold on her. "Just be sure to call me if he does try to seduce you," he said with a wink. "I need a good laugh."


	18. Home

**Chapter 18: Home**

After midnight on a Thursday night, or Friday morning, Zen paced out in the middle of one of the fields that belonged to her university. Only a few more minutes. After waiting for four and a half months, she was about to see Sirius again. It made her queasy with excitement, and she hoped that everything went according to plan.

After consulting many charts and taking into consideration the location in longitude and latitude, the different time zones, and Daylight Savings, Calyxa had written down the exact time and date of the full moon closest to the Summer Solstice. The moon affected her magic, of course, so two minutes from now would be the most auspicious time to bring Sirius through, and Zen would be with him again.

As she paced, she twisted the plain platinum wedding ring around her finger. On the inside, their names were engraved as well as the date of the wedding at Grimmauld Place. In the time that had passed in this world since her return, she had missed Sirius intensely. On the other hand, she had used the time wisely to plan and organize.

Before she had left, she had asked Tonks to get her a disposable camera from a Muggle shop and to take several pictures of her and Sirius together. That way, she would have something to show friends and family when she told them about her new man.

After that, she had given Dumbledore a list of documents that Sirius would need for his new life, including a British passport and birth certificate. In addition, Sirius had made her take a good quality diamond with her. After all, he had reasoned, Wizarding Galleons would be worthless in her world, and he wanted her to have plenty of money to spend on anything she wanted.

When she had returned home, it was frigid, bitter February. Her classes went easily because she had done so much of the work during her time with Sirius. School had ended in May, and she was not taking any summer courses, so she would have a lot of free time until September. By then, she hoped to have Sirius settled comfortably into their new life together.

She had sold the diamond to a shady character in Manhattan for quite a lot of money. Though she probably would have gotten more from someone reputable, she had wanted _no questions asked_, and it had worked. Some of it went to refurbish her place, to repaint and buy a new duvet and several other items in preparation for his arrival. She also bought some pretty new clothes and lingerie and had a good professional haircut. All those expenses had hardly made a dent in the total amount, so she put the rest in a high interest money market account. After all, they'd need money for food, clothes, and other necessities after he got there.

She was lucky in that she rarely told her parents anything about her personal life, but it was harder with her siblings and close friends. She began to mention a long-distance relationship she was having with a good-looking guy from London and invented a whole back story of how they had met and fallen in love. It was a little bit like writing a fictional story except for one thing: she had to make sure that everyone believed it. They did, and when people asked what he did for a living, she told them he was a performer, a magician, but was thinking of changing careers. When she showed the photographs from the disposable camera, she explained his wizard's robes as part of his costume.

One of her sisters had laughed uproariously. "A magician!"

Her other sister had looked at her in horror. "A _magician_?"

A brilliant flash of light split the darkness of the night and a loud crack shocked her from her reverie. As she gasped aloud and leapt backwards, a large form crumpled to the ground in front of her.

"Sirius!" She fell to her knees beside him. The moon was covered by clouds, but she could tell that he was unconscious. "Sirius!" She turned him on his back: he was alive but not breathing. "Oh, God," she whispered and then slapped his face hard.

His eyelids flickered but did not open.

"Oh, shit!" she muttered, tilting his head back so that she could attempt to resuscitate him.

Another flash of light was accompanied by a crack, and then Calyxa, filled with brilliant, white light, knelt beside them. Both of her hands pressed against Sirius's chest, and the light flooded all three of them. "Breathe," she commanded as the light pulsed from her hands into him.

Zen sat back on her heels. "He can't die!" she insisted.

"Speak to him," Calyxa told her. "He will not do it for me. Tell him to breathe."

"Sirius," she said, leaning over him. "You have to breathe. Take a breath now."

He did. He drew in a rough, rasping breath.

"Good," Calyxa soothed, and her light pulsed even more intensely. "Take nice, deep breaths and your lady will give you a kiss."

The second breath was a little bit smoother, and the third one was even deeper and more normal. Zen pressed several kisses against his temple. "Sweetie, sweetie," she whispered in his ear.

"He is going to be all right,' Calyxa told her, but she had not yet stopped pulsing the white light into him. "You must take him home and let him sleep, and he will wake feeling normal."

"Okay. Let me pull the truck up closer." Zen eased Sirius down and then ran over to where her truck was parked. It wasn't exactly _hers_, but she had no car of her own, so her brother let her drive his old truck for free.

She moved the vehicle as close as she could and then ran around to open the passenger door. Calyxa's brilliant white light had faded, but Sirius was breathing normally and his eyelids were half open.

"Is he awake?" Zen asked, still terribly worried.

"Partially conscious." Calyxa took out her wand and began to levitate him up off the grass and into the truck. "He should be lucid enough to walk into your house, but you will have to help him."

"You're sure he's all right?" Zen tried to remain calm, but she found herself wringing her hands.

"The magic is healing him, but he must sleep," Calyxa explained. Sirius was settled into the truck, and the Italian witch smiled at her. "Put him to bed, and you will find him perfectly healthy in the morning. I promise."

The words and the absolute certainty soothed Zen. "Thank you."

"I must go now. Is there anything you need before I do?"

Zen looked at her and tears prickled in her eyes, for she knew that they wouldn't meet again. "No. Just take care of Remus. He could use a little looking after."

"I shall," Calyxa assured her and then reached to embrace her, kissing her on both cheeks. "Farewell. Be happy, both you and Sirius." She smiled once more before disappearing with a loud crack.

Zen made sure that Sirius was buckled in before closing the door and going around to the other side to get in the driver's seat. "We'll be there soon," she kept telling him as she drove and wiped away the tears that were flowing down her face. "Don't worry, we'll get you right to bed, and you can sleep as long as you want."

It was only about five miles, and there were very few other vehicles out on the road at that hour, so she pulled into the driveway only a few minutes later. Sirius's eyes were open, but they were almost blank. He was able to hobble while leaning on her, so she half-carried him into the bedroom, where she guided him to sit on the bed.

"Stay awake long enough to get undressed," she told him.

He was able to help a little, and she undressed him, stripping off his wizard's robes all the way down to his undershorts. Around his neck, he wore a heavy gold chain with several large diamonds on it. Zen stopped and studied at it for a second, for she had never seen him wear any jewelry except his wedding band.

It didn't matter now, of course. She fetched a new t-shirt that she had bought for him and pulled it over his head and then guided him in putting his arms in, as if he were a small child. Then she made him lie down and pulled the covers over him.

"Baby," he whispered.

She lay down beside him and hugged him gently. "Rest here," she told him. "We're home."

* * *

A low, rumbling sound was the first thing of which he was aware. At first, he thought it was distant thunder, but the sound was too constant. What it really sounded like to him was the idling engine of a motorbike. 

He smiled and felt for the chain of diamonds around his neck. Enough for thousands of motorbikes. Enough for him to spoil her, to buy her anything she wanted, to live well for a hundred years.

He opened his eyes and found a pair of immense copper eyes looking at him. A huge black Persian cat lay next to him, purring loudly like an engine. "You must be GG," he said to the massive tomcat and then reached out his hand.

The cat sniffed his fingers thoroughly and licked them with his rough tongue.

"I suppose I've passed muster," he said with a chuckle to the cat, who purred even louder as Sirius stroked his long fur.

When he got up, he saw that the walls of the room were dark lavender, almost violet, the furniture was dark wood, and the windows were open but fitted with screens to keep out insects. Sweet-smelling, cool air circulated in the room, air fresh with newly-mown grass, flowers, and loamy earth. On top of a chest of drawers was a glass case housing a Samurai warrior doll about to let fly an arrow from his bow. A few books were placed on a bookcase along with several pieces of colorful pottery and small vases of flowers. On a low table stood a statue of that serene looking bloke, Buddha, and three mismatched candles of dark pink, green, and purple along with another little vase of flowers.

The t-shirt he wore was vivid red and bore the black legend _Scarlet Knights_. He loved it. The idea of chivalry had always appeared to him, and scarlet was, after all, the color of Godric Gryffindor, who embodied the ancient codes of the medieval knights.

On the nightstand next to his wand was a neat pile of documents – his British Muggle passport and other assorted papers that Zen had said would make it easier for him to live in this world. As he gazed at them, he recalled how hard they had worked on them, him and Dumbledore and Moony. _Moony_, he thought,_ good old Moony._ His best friend, whom he wouldn't see again. And Harry… Sadness and grief began to overwhelm him, but he pushed these thoughts away.

_Not now_, he told himself firmly, for there was a lovely woman somewhere nearby that he wanted very badly to find. He took off the chain of diamonds and set it on the nightstand with his wand and documents. The clock read nearly ten o'clock, which was very late in the morning for him to stay in bed. _Must be getting old._ He slowly found his way down the hall to the sun drenched kitchen.

Her back was to him as she poured a small mug of coffee from a silver pot; she was wearing a sleeveless summer dress of dark blue, and her long, curly hair was fiercely red in the sun. He had never seen her illuminated by sunlight before. _This is my wife_, he thought, and overwhelming emotions squeezed his heart painfully.

"Grace," he managed to say in a soft, emotional voice. It was the first time he had ever called her by her real name.

She turned with a start, spilling coffee on the countertop. "Sirius!" she cried, setting down the silver pot and mug.

With two strides, he was close enough to embrace her, and he crushed her against him in a powerful hug. She squeezed him back hard, and for a long moment, they stood together like that.

"You really scared me for a few seconds last night," she told him in an unsteady whisper as tears leaked from her tightly shut eyes.

The last thing he wanted was for her to cry, so he tilted her head up and kissed her, several soft little kisses. "No tears now, baby," he murmured. "How about something to eat? Any eggs and bacon? I could go for a right old fry-up." He knew that the occupation of preparing food would prevent her from excessive emotion.

"Yeah," she brushed at her eyes and cleared her throat. "I'll make it for you."

"That'd be lovely. I'll have a quick shower if you don't mind." He intended to eat his fill and then take her back to bed, so he wanted to be fresh and clean-shaven. "Just point me in the right direction."

She showed him the bathroom and where everything was, like clean towels, toothbrush, and shaving razor, and where the clothes were that she had bought for him to wear until she could take him shopping.

By the time he was done, his empty stomach was rumbling painfully, and the smell of frying eggs and bacon was making it even worse. He tried not to eat too quickly even though everything tasted exceptional. He chuckled as she told him about her preparations and everything that had happened over the past months.

"A magician!" he laughed when she told him of her invented history. "That's absolutely brilliant! I suppose I'll have to work out some kind of act where I pull a rabbit out of a hat."

After he was done, they sat talking for a while about important, pragmatic things, such as buying him clothes and selling diamonds. Once the essentials had been decided, he pulled her closer so he could kiss her. As he did, he began to unbutton the front of her dress. She gasped in surprise because it had been several months for her whereas it had only been a few days for him since she had left. Then she began to run her hands over his chest and shoulders….

As always, her touch really turned him on! But he was running the show this time. He lifted her in his arms and carried her, giggling, to the bed where the big cat was purring and taking up a disproportionate area. But not for long!

Later, much later, she was snuggled up against him and gently twisting strands of his chest hair around her fingers, something she could do for hours and make him purr contentedly like the cat. He stroked her wild mane of reddish hair and asked if they could go to the seaside the following day. It had been a long time since he had seen the sea, and apparently the ocean was a short drive.

"Sure," she told him drowsily. "We'll get you a swimsuit and some sunglasses… have a nice seafood meal while we're there…"

This world was now his new home. Aside from Hogwarts, he had never really had a happy place to call home. Certainly not Grimmauld Place, _that_ had never been home. Yet, it _had _been, at least while she had been there. Well, maybe not the entire house, just her room, where they had slept together under the red and white striped duvet. Or maybe the sitting room, where she had tucked her cold toes under his thigh.

The final realization struck him. Home for him wasn't a place. Home was wherever she was.

"It's nice to be home," he murmured with a smile.

* * *

Author's Notes: As usual with this story, totally unbetaed. 

September was **rough**! I was overwhelmed with work and the weather was unseasonably hot and humid. I'm pleased that the month is over! Apologies for the huge time lapse in replying to emails, comments, and PMs. Thanks for being patient!

Anyway, I think we can leave Sirius and Zen to enjoy their new life together although we may peek in on them from time to time. They both know it won't be easy, but I'm pretty sure they'll find happiness. Now, I've got to get back to _Children of the Goddess_... I've left poor Remus dreaming about the past for more than a year now!

Does the ending satisfy you? As always, comments are welcome.

Cheers!  
Zen

Here's the first sketch from months ago when I came up with the basic plot (It'll give you an idea of what I usually do during boring lectures):

* * *

_While exploring the possibilities of the connection between the fanfiction authors in their world and the characters in their world, Albus Dumbledore stumbled onto the idea that perhaps their doomed younger wizards could be saved. It was a question that he did not ponder lightly. Was it better to die according to your fate or to lose everything you love and go to live in a New World? If you were going to die anyway, would you rather try living in another world?_

_There were certainly many women in the world of authors who would be interested in helping Severus, but Albus wasn't sure that the cold Potions master would put up with any of them. He might prefer death. Sirius, on the other hand, might be able to get along in the other world. It was hard to imagine him willingly giving up Harry; however, if it was that or death, he might be very motivated._

_Dumbledore took out a sheet of parchment and began to make a list of requirements for someone to take the wizards back to the author world_

_- adult with own life – won't be tempted to stay in storyland  
- financial security  
- live alone or have total support of family  
- attractive and single  
- able to deal with immature men_

_At first, Sirius flatly refused to leave Harry. It was only when he recognized that he was going to leave Harry anyway when he died that he considered it. Still, though, he maintained a reticent reluctance towards the whole scheme, and Dumbledore spent a long time trying to uncover the reason that Sirius would rather die than take a chance on a different kind of life._

_"Who would have me?" he had said with a laugh. Dumbledore had come to see that his rough humor covered up a horrible aching loneliness._

_Deep down inside, Sirius's long years in prison had wreaked havoc. The once handsome and confident young man now couldn't imagine that any woman could care for him as a man._

_Knowing that this was beyond the scope of his ability to help, Albus shared his observations with Remus and Calyxa. Along with Harry, they loved Sirius more than anyone else alive did. In addition, Dumbledore expected that perhaps Calyxa could influence Sirius to realize that he was judging himself too harshly and that he had a lot to offer a prospective lover._

_Over the past few months, Albus had brought over many authors to meet Sirius. At first, he was completely honest with them. That turned out to be a mistake, for those who seemed the most reliable and promising were reluctant because of his scheme, which was apparently no better than an arranged marriage. The ones who agreed to meet Sirius were the other extreme: desperate, lonely women. One author actually seized Sirius rather roughly and kissed him while tearing off several buttons as she tried to divest him of his robes._

_Dumbledore changed tack after that. He brought the authors over on the sly and then informed them that they would have to spend a few days there until he could determine how to send them back. Several of them didn't work out because the sight of Sirius, who still bore the signs of his long imprisonment in Azkaban, was too far from their idealized image of the very good-looking rebel of years ago._

_The most surprising refusals stunned Albus. Those ladies were convinced that Sirius was a roving-eyed womanizer because of fictions they had read portraying him that way. While the poor wizard was, in truth, as fiercely faithful as the proverbial canine companion, many fictions had characterized him as a rogue when it came to women, and so many women believed he was._

_All in all, Sirius was extremely polite and patient with all the ladies, for any of them might save his life. There were a few whom he told Albus privately he simply could not go with. There weren't many, and Albus didn't blame him, for he had good reason. But the field was getting thin. No one wanted the enormous responsibility for the reckless man in arrested adolescence._

_Eventually, he had to start including authors who were not writers of Sirius-centered fiction. The first group he added were the ones who wrote about Harry, but there weren't many there who were interested in Sirius. He debated adding writers of Marauders-era fictions, but those authors would expect an undamaged Sirius. Even though he imagined it might be very dangerous, he did include those who wrote non-slash stories about Remus Lupin that featured adult Sirius in a favorable light. How horrible it would be to bring an author here to save Sirius and have her fancy his best friend instead._


End file.
